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:IOS-ANCEU 


YEKL 

A  TALE  OF  THE  NEW   YORK  GHETTO 


J\  talc  of  tbe  new  ¥orR  Ghetto 


By 
JT.  Caftan 


new  Vork 

D.  flppicton  and  Company 
MM 


COPYRIGHT,  1896, 
JY  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


CONTENTS 


I.— JAKE  AND  YEKL i 

II.— THE  NEW  YORK  GHETTO     ....      25 

III. — IN  THE  GRIP  OF  HIS  PAST  $O 

IV. — THE  MEETING 70 

V.— A  PATERFAMILIAS 82 

VI.— CIRCUMSTANCES  ALTER  CASES      .       .       .112 
VII.— MRS.  KAVARSKY'S  COUP  D'ETAT   .       .       .136 

VIII. — A  HOUSETOP  IDYL 158 

IX. — THE  PARTING 175 

X.— A  DEFEATED  VICTOR 185 

v 


694967 


EKL. 
CHAPTER  I. 

JAKE   AND    YEKL. 

THE  operatives  of  the  cloak-shop  in  which 
Jake  was  employed  had  been  idle  all  the 
.morning.  It  was  after  twelve  o'clock  and 
the  "  boss  "  had  not  yet  returned  from  Broad- 
way, whither  he  had  betaken  himself  two  or 
three  hours  before  in  quest  of  work.  The 
little  sweltering  assemblage — for  it  was  an 
oppressive  day  in  midsummer — beguiled 
their  suspense  variously.  A  rabbinical-look- 
ing man  of  thirty,  who  sat  with  the  back  of  his 
chair  tilted  against  his  sewing  machine,  was 
intent  upon  an  English  newspaper.  Every 
little  while  he  would  remove  it  from  his  eyes 
— showing  a  dyspeptic  face  fringed  with  a 


2  YEKL. 

thin  growth  of  dark  beard — to  consult  the 
cumbrous  dictionary  on  his  knees.  Two 
young  lads,  one  seated  on  the  frame  of  the 
next  machine  and  the  other  standing,  were 
boasting  to  one  another  of  their  respective 
intimacies  with  the  leading  actors  of  the 
Jewish  stage.  The  board  of  a  third  machine, 
in  a  corner  of  the  same  wall,  supported  an 
open  copy  of  a  socialist  magazine  in  Yid- 
dish, over  which  a  cadaverous  young  man 
absorbedly  swayed  to  and  fro  droning  in  the 
Talmudical  intonation.  A  middle-aged  oper- 
ative, with  huge  red  side  whiskers,  who  was 
perched  on  the  presser's  table  in  the  corner 
opposite,  was  mending  his  own  coat.  While 
the  thick-set  presser  and  all  the  three  women 
of  the  shop,  occupying  the  three  machines 
ranged  against  an  adjoining  wall,  formed  an 
attentive  audience  to  an  impromptu  lecture 
upon  the  comparative  merits  of  Boston  and 
New  York  by  Jake. 

He  had  been  speaking  for  some  time. 
He  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  overcrowded 
stuffy  room  with  his  long  but  well-shaped 


JAKE  AND  YEKL.  3 

legs  wide  apart,  his  bulky  round  head  aslant, 
;  and  one  of  his  bared  mighty  arms  akimbo. 
He  spoke  in  Boston  Yiddish,  that  is  to  say,\ 
in_Yiddish  more  copiously  spicedjwith  mutj-y 
lated   English  than  is  the  language  of  the 
rnetropolitarrjGhetto    in   which    our  story 
lie&     He  had  a  deep  and  rather  harsh  voice, 
and  his  r's  could  do  credit  to  the  thickest 
Irish  brogue. 

"When  I  was  in  Boston,"  he  went  on,    * 
with  a  contemptuous  mien  intended  for  the      c 
American  metropolis,  "  I  knew  a  feller*  so 
he  was  a  preticly  friend  of  John  Shulli van's. 
He  is  a  Christian,  that  feller  is,  and  yet  the 
two  of  us  lived  like  brothers.     May  I  be  un- 
able to  move  from  this  spot  if  we  did  not. 
How,  then,  would  you  have  it?     Like  here, 
in  New  York,  where  the  Jews  are  a  lot  of 
greenhornsh  and  can  not  speak  a  word   of  ; 
English  ?     Over    there    every    Jew    speaks 
English  like  a  stream." 

*  English  words  incorporated  in  the  Yiddish 
of  the  characters  of  this  narrative  are  given  in 
Italics. 


4  YEKL. 

"Say,  Dzake," the  presser  broke  in,  "John 
Sullivan  is  tzampion  no  longer,  is  he  ?  " 

"Oh,  no!  Not  always  is  it  holiday!" 
Jake  responded,  with  what  he  considered  a 
Yankee  jerk  of  his  head.  "  Why,  don't  you 
know?  Jimmie  Corbett  leaked  him,  and 
Jimmie  leaked  Cholly  Meetchel,  too.  You 
can  betch  you  bootsh !  Johnnie  could  not 
leak  Chollie,  becaush  he  is  a  big  bluffer, 
Chollie  is,"  he  pursued,  his  clean-shaven 
florid  face  beaming  with  enthusiasm  for  his 
subject,  and  with  pride  in  the  diminutive 
proper  nouns  he  flaunted.  "But  Jimmie 
pundished  him.  Ok,  didn't  he  knock  him  out 
off  shight !  He  came  near  making  a  meat 
ball  of  him  " — with  a  chuckle.  "  He  tzettled 
him  in  three  roynds.  I  knew  a  feller  who 
had  seen  the  fight." 

"  What  is  a  rawnd,  Dzake  ?  "  the  presser 
inquired. 

Jake's  answer  to  the  question  carried  him 
into  a  minute  exposition  of  "  right-handers," 
"left-handers,"  "sending  to  sleep,"  "first 
blood,"  and  other  commodities  of  the  fistic 


JAKE  AND  YEKL.  5 

business.  He  must  have  treated  the  subject 
rather  too  scientifically,  however,  for  his  fe- 
male listeners  obviously  paid  more  attention 
to  what  he  did  in  the  course  of  the  boxing 
match,  which  he  had  now  and  then,  by  way 
of  illustration,  with  the  thick  air  of  the  room, 
than  to  the  verbal  part  of  his  lecture.  Nay, 
even  the  performances  of  his  brawny  arms 
and  magnificent  form  did  not  charm  them  as 
much  as  he  thought  they  did.  For  a  dis- 
play of  manly  force,  when  connected — even 
though  in  a  purely  imaginary  way — with 
acts  of  violence,  has  little  attraction  for  a 
"daughter  of  the  Ghetto."  Much  more  in- 
terest did  those  arms  and  form  command  on 
their  own  merits.  Nor  was  his  chubby  high- 
colored  face  neglected.  True,  there  was  a 
suggestion  of  the  bulldog  in  its  make  up; 
but  this  effect  was  lost  upon  the  feminine 
portion  of  Jake's  audience,  for  his  features, 
illuminated  by  a  pair  of  eager  eyes  of  a  hazel 
hue,  and  shaded  by  a  thick  crop  of  dark  hair, 
iwere,  after  all,  rather  pleasing  than  otherwise. 
t,  ptrongly  Semitic  naturally,  they  became  still 


6  YEKL. 

more  so  each  time  they  were  brightened  up 
by  his  goocf-natured  boyish  smile.  Indeed, 

(Jake's  very  nose,  which  was  fleshy  and  pear- 
shaped  and  deddedl^jiQjtJewish  (although 
not  decidedly  anything  else),  seemed  to  join 
the  Mosaic  faith,  and  even  his  shaven  upper 
lip  looked  penitent,  as  soon  as  that  smile  of 
his  made  its  appearance. 

"  Nice  fun  that ! "  observed  the  side-whis- 
kered man,  who  had  stopped  sewing  to  fol- 
low Jake's  exhibition.  "Fighting  —  like 
drunken  moujiks  in  Russia  ! " 

"  Tarrarra-boom-de-ay ! "  was  Jake's  mer- 
ry retort ;  and  for  an  exclamation  mark  he 
puffed  up  his  cheeks  into  a  balloon,  and  ex- 
ploded it  by  a  " pawnch  "  of  his  formidable 
fist. 

11  Look,  I  beg  you,  look  at  his  dog's 
•  tricks ! "  the  other  said  in  disgust. 

"Horse's  head  that  you  are!"  Jake  re- 
joined good-humoredly.  "Do  you  mean  to 
tell  me  that  a  moujik  understands  how  to 
fight  f  A  disease  he  does !  He  only  knows 
how  to  strike  like  a  bear  [Jake  adapted  his 


JAKE  AND  YEKL.  7 

voice  and  gesticulation  to  the  idea  of  clumsi- 
ness], an'  dofsh  ullf  What  dbes  he  care 
where  his  paw  will  land,  so  he  strikes.  But 
here  one  must  observe  rulesh  [rules]." 

At  this  point  Meester  Bernstein — for  so 
the  rabbinical-looking  man  was  usually  ad- 
dressed by  his  shopmates — looked  up  from 
his  dictionary. 

"  Can't  you  see  ?  "  he  interposed,  with  an 
air  of  assumed  gravity  as  he  turned  to  Jake's 
opponent,  "  America  is  an  educated  country,  |    J 
so   they   won't  even    break    bones   without 
grammar.    They  tear  each  other's  sides  ac-  j 
cording  to   'right   and    left,'*  you    know." 
This  was  a  thrust  at  Jake's  right-handers  and 
left-handers,  which  had  interfered  with  Bern- 
stein's  reading.     "  Nevertheless,"   the   latter 
proceeded,   when   the   outburst   of  laughter 
which  greeted   his   witticism   had  subsided,    - 
"  I  do  think  that  a  burly  Russian  peasant 
would,  without   a   bit   of  grammar,   crunch 

*A  term  relating  to  the  Hebrew  equivalent  of 
the  letter  s,  whose  pronunciation  depends  upon  the 
right  or  left  position  of  a  mark  over  it. 


8  YEKL. 

the  bones  of  Corbett  himself;  and  he  would 
not  charge  him  a  cent  for  it,  either." 

"  fs  dot  sho?"  Jake  retorted,  somewhat 
nonplussed.  "/  betch  you  he  would  not. 
The  peasant  would  lie  bleeding  like  a  hog 
before  he  had  time  to  turn  around." 

"  But  they  might  kill  each  other  in  that 
way,  ain't  it,  Jake?"  asked  a  comely,  milk- 
faced  blonde  whose  name  was  Fanny.  She 
was  celebrated  for  her  lengthy  tirades,  mostly 
in  a  plaintive,  nagging  strain,  and  delivered 
in  her  quiet,  piping  voice,  and  had  accord- 
ingly been  dubbed  "  The  Preacher." 

"  Oh,  that  will  happen  but  very  seldom," 
Jake  returned  rather  glumly. 

The  theatrical  pair  broke  off  their  boast- 
ing match  to  join  in  the  debate,  which  soon 
included  all  except  the  socialist ;  the  former 
two,  together  with  the  two  girls  and  the 
presser,  espousing  the  American  cause,  while 
Malke  the  widow  and  "  De  Viskes"  sided 
with  Bernstein. 

"  Let  it  be  as  you  say,"  said  the  leader  of 
the  minority,  withdrawing  from  the  contest 


JAKE  AND  YEKL.  9 

to  resume  his  newspaper.    "  My  grandma's 
last  care  it  is  who  can  fight  best." 

"  Nice  pleasure,  any  hull?  remarked  the 
widow.  "Never  miri,  we  shall  see  how  it 
will  lie  in  his  head  when  he  has  a  wife  and 
children  to  support? 

Jake  colored.  "  What  does  a  chicken 
know  about  these  things  ?"  he  said  irascibly. 

Bernstein  again  could  not  help  interven- 
ing. "  And  you,  Jake,  can  not  do  with- 
out 'these  things/  can  you?  Indeed,  I  do 
not  see  how  you  manage  to  live  without 
them." 

"  Don't  you  like  it  ?  I  do  "  Jake  declared 
tartly.  "  Once  I  live  in  America,"  he  pur- 
sued, on  the  defensive,  "  I  want  to  know  that 
I  live  in  America.  Dofsk  CL  kin  a  man  I 
am  !  One  must  not  be  a  greenhorn.  Here 
a  Jew  is  as  good  as  a  Gentile.  How,  then,^ 
would  you  have  it  ?  The  way  it  is  in  Rus- 
sia, where  a  Jew  is  afraid  to  stand  within 
four  ells  of  a  Christian  ?  " 

"Are  there  no  other  Christians  than 
fighters  in  America  ? "  Bernstein  objected 


10  YEKL. 

with  an  amused  smile.  "  Why  don't  you 
look  for  the  educated  ones  ?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  the  fighters  are 

^    not  ejecate  9     Better  than  you,  any  hoy"  Jake 

"Vsaid  with  a  Yankee  wink,  followed   by  his 

1  Semitic  smile.     "Here  you  read  the  papers, 

/  and  yet  /'//  betch  you  you  don't  know  that 

Corbett  findished  college? 

"  I  never  read  about  fighters,"  Bernstein 
replied  with  a  bored  gesture,  and  turned  to 
his  paper. 

"  Then  say  that  you  don't  know,  and 
dofsh  ullf  " 

Bernstein  made  no  reply.  In  his  heart 
Jake  respected  him,  and  was  now  anxious  to 
vindicate  his  tastes  in  the  judgment  of  his 
scholarly  shopmate  and  in  his  own. 

"Alia  right,  let  it  be  as  you  say;  the 
fighters  are  not  ejecate.  No,  not  a  bit !  "  he 
said  ironically,  continuing  to  address  himself 
to  Bernstein.  "  But  what  will  you  say  to 
baseball?  All  college  boys  and  tony  peoples  k 
play  it,"  he  concluded  triumphantly.  Bern- 
stein remained  silent,  his  eyes  riveted  to  his 


JAKE  AND  YEKL.  H 

newspaper.  "  Ah,  you  don't  answer,  shee  f  " 
said  Jake,  feeling  put  out. 

The  awkward  pause  which  followed  was 
relieved  by  one  of  the  playgoers  who  wanted 
to  know  whether  it  was  true  that  to  pitch  a 
ball  required  more  skill  than  to  catch  one. 

"  Sure  /  You  must  know  how  to 
peetch?  Jake  rejoined  with  the  cloud  linger- 
ing on  his  brow,  as  he  lukewarmly  delivered 
an  imaginary  ball. 

"And  I,  for  my  part,  don't  see  what  wis- 
dom there  is  to  it,"  said  the  presser  with  a 
shrug.  "  I  think  I  could  throw,  too." 

"He  can  do  everything  !  "  laughingly  re- 
marked a  girl  named  Pesse*. 

"  How  hard  can  you  hit  ?  "  Jake  demand- 
ed sarcastically,  somewhat  warming  up  to 
the  subject. 

"  As  hard  as  you  at  any  time." 

"  /  betch  you  a  dullar  to  you'  ten  shent 
you  can  not,"  Jake  answered,  and  at  the 
same  moment  he  fished  out  a  handful  of  coin 
from  his  trousers  pocket  and  challengingly 
presented  it  close  to  his  interlocutor's  nose. 


12  YEKL. 

"  There  he  goes  ! — betting  !  "  the  presser 
exclaimed,  drawing  slightly  back.  "  For  my 
part,  your  pitzers  and  catzers  may  all  lie  in 
the  earth.  A  nice  entertainment,  indeed ! 
Just  like  little  children — playing  ball !  And 
yet  people  say  America  is  a  smart  county. 
I  don't  see  it." 

"  'F  caush  you  don't,  becaush  you  are  a 
bedraggled  greenhorn,  afraid  to  budge  out 
of  Heshter  Shtreet."  As  Jake  thus  vented 
his  bad  humour  on  his  adversary,  he  cast  a 
glance  at  Bernstein,  as  if  anxious  to  attract 
his  attention  and  to  re-engage  him  in  the 
discussion. 

^    "  Look  at  the  Yankee  !  "  the  presser  shot 
back. 

"  More  of  a  one  than  you,  anyhoy? 

"He  thinks  that  shaving  one's  mustache 
makes  a  Yankee  !  " 

Jake  turned  white  with  rage. 

"  'Pon  my  vord,  I'll  ride  into  his  mug 
and  give  such  a  shaving  and  planing  to  his 
pig's  snout  that  he  will  have  to  pick  up  his 
teeth." 


JAKE   AND   YEKL.  !3 

"  That's  all  you  are  good  for." 

"  Better  don't  answer  him,  Jake,"  said 
Fanny,  intimately. 

"  Oh,  I  came  near  forgetting  that  he  has 
somebody  to  take  his  part ! "  snapped  the 
presser. 

The  girl's  milky  face  became  a  fiery  red, 
and  she  retorted  in  vituperative  Yiddish 
from  that  vocabulary  which  is  the  undivided 
possession  of  her  sex.  The  presser  jerked 
out  an  innuendo  still  more  far-reaching  than 
his  first.  Jake,  with  bloodshot  eyes,  leaped 
at  the  offender,  and  catching  him  by  the 
front  of  his  waistcoat,  was  aiming  one  of 
those  bearlike  blows  which  but  a  short 
while  ago  he  had  decried  in  the  moujik, 
when  Bernstein  sprang  to  his  side  and  tore 
him  away,  Pesse"  placing  herself  between  the 
two  enemies. 

"  Don't  get  excited,"  Bernstein  coaxed 
him. 

"  Better  don't  soil  your  hands,"  Fanny 
added. 

After  a  slight  pause  Bernstein  could  not 


I4  YEKL. 

forbear  a  remark  which  he  had  stubbornly 
repressed  while  Jake  was  challenging  him  to 
a  debate  on  the  education  of  baseball  players : 
"  Look  here,  Jake ;  since  fighters  and  base- 
ball men  are  all  educated,  then  why  don't 
you  try  to  become  so  ?  Instead  of  spending 
your  money  on  fights,  dancing,  and  things 
like  that,  would  it  not  be  better  if  you  paid 
it  to  a  teacher  ?  " 

Jake  flew  into  a  fresh  passion.  "Never 
miri  what  I  do  with  my  money,"  he  said ;  "  I 
don't  steal  it  from  you,  do  I  ?  Rejoice  that 
you  keep  tormenting  your  books.  Much 
does  he  know !  Learning,  learning,  and 
learning,  and  still  _  he  can  not  speak  English. 
I  don't  learn  and  yet  I  speak  quicker  than 
you  ! " 

A  deep  blush  of  wounded  vanity  mount- 
ed to  Bernstein's  sallow  cheek.  "  Ull  rightt 
ull  right !  "  he  cut  the  conversation  short, 
and  took  up  the  newspaper. 

Another  nervous  silence  fell  upon  the 
group.  Jake  felt  wretched.  He  uttered  an 
English  oath,  which  in  his  heart  he  directed 


JAKE  AND  YEKL.  15 

against  himself  as  much  as  against  his  sedate 
companion,  and  fell  to  frowning  upon  the 
leg  of  a  machine. 

"  Vill  you  go  by  Joe  to-night  ? "  asked 
Fanny  in  English,  speaking  in  an  undertone. 
Joe  was  a  dancing  master.  She  was  sure 
Jake  intended  to  call  at  his  "  academy"  that 
evening,  and  she  put  the  question  only  in 
order  to  help  him  out  of  his  sour  mood. 

"  No,"  said  Jake,  morosely. 

"  Vy,  to-day  is  Vensday." 

"  And  without  you  I  don't  know  it ! "  he 
snarled  in  Yiddish. 

The  finisher  girl  blushed  deeply  and  re- 
frained from  any  response. 

"  He  does  look  like  a  regely  Yankee, 
\  doesn't  he  ?  "  Pesse"  whispered  to  her  after  a 
I  little. 

"  Go  and  ask  him  ! " 

"Go  and  hang  yourself  together  with 
him !  Such  a  nasty  preacher !  Did  you 
ever  hear — one  dares  not  say  a  word  to  the 
noblewoman ! " 

At   this  juncture   the   boss,  a   dwarfish 


!6  YEKL. 

** 

little  Jew,  with  a  vivid  pair  of  eyes  and 
a  shaggy  black  beard,  darted  into  the 
chamber. 

"  It-  is  no  used !  "  he  said  with  a  gesture 
of  despair.  "  There  is  not  a  stitch  of  work, 
if  only  for  a  cure.  Look,  look  how  they 
have  lowered  their  noses ! "  he  then  added 
with  a  triumphant  grin.  "F*?//,  I  shall  not 
be  teasing  you.  '  Pity  living  things  ! '  The 
expressman  is  darn  stess.  I  would  not  go 
till  I  saw  him  start,  and  then  I  caught 
a  car.  No  other  boss  could  get  a  single 
jacket  even  if  he  fell  upon  his  knees.  Veil, 
do  you  appreciate  it  at  least  ?  Not  much, 
ay?" 

The  presser  rushed  out  of  the  room  and 
presently  came  back  laden  with  bundles  of 
cut  cloth  which  he  threw  down  on  the  table. 
A  wild  scramble  ensued.  The  presser 
looked  on  indifferently.  The  three  finisher 
women,  who  had  awaited  the  advent  of  the 
bundles  as  eagerly  as  the  men,  now  calmly 
put  on  their  hats.  They  knew  that  their 
part  of  the  work  wouldn't  come  before  three 


JAKE   AND  YEKL.  iy 

o'clock,  and  so,  overjoyed  by  the^ertajnt^  of 
jmployment  for  at  least  another  day  or  two, 
icy  departed  till  that  hour. 
t  *  "  Look  at  the  rush  they  are  making ! 
Just  like  the  locusts  of  Egypt!"  the  boss 
cried  half  sternly  and  half  with  self-compla- 
cent humour,  as  he  shielded  the  treasure  with 
both  his  arms  from  all  except  "  De  Viskes  " 
and  Jake — the  two  being  what  is  called  in 
sweat-shop  parlance,  "  chance-mentshen?  i.  e.f 
favorites.  "  Don't  be  snatching  and  catch- 
ing like  that,"  the  boss  went  on.  "  You 
may  burn  your  fingers.  Go  to  your  ma- 
chines, I  say!  The  soup  will  be  served 
in  separate  plates.  Never  fear,  it  won't  get 
cold." 

The  hands  at  last  desisted  gingerly,  Jake 
and  the  whiskered  operator  carrying  off 
two  of  the  largest  bundles.  The  others 
went  to  their  machines  empty-handed  and 
remained  seated,  their  hungry  glances  riv- 
eted to  the  booty,  until  they,  too,  we're  pro- 
vided. 

The   little  boss  distributed   the   bundles 


1 8  YEKL. 

with  dignified  deliberation.  In  point  of  fact, 
he  was  no  less  impatient  to  have  the  work 
started  than  any  of  his  employees.  But  in 
him  the  feeling  was  overridden  by  a  kind  of 
malicious  pleasure  which  he  took  in  their 
eagerness  and  in  the  demonstration  of  his 
power  over  the  men,  some  of  whom  he 
knew  to  have  enjoyed  a  more  comfort- 
able past  than  himself.  The  machines  of 
Jake  and  "  De  Viskes "  led  off  in  a  duet, 
which  presently  became  a  trio,  and  in  an- 
other few  minutes  the  floor  was  fairly  danc- 
ing to  the  ear-piercing  discords  of  the  whole 
frantic  sextet. 

In  the  excitement  of  the  scene  called 
forth  by  the  appearance  of  the  bundles, 
Jake's  gloomy  mood  had  melted  away. 
Nevertheless,  while  his  machine  was  deliv- 
ering its  first  shrill  staccatos,  his  heart  recited 
a  vow  :  "  As  soon  as  I  get  my  pay  I  shall 
call  on  the  installment  man  and  give  him  a 
deposit  for  a  ticket."  The  prospective  ticket 
was  to  be  for  a  passage  across  the  Atlantic 
from  Hamburg  to  New  York.  And  as  the 


JAKE   AND   YEKL.  JQ 

notion  of  it  passed  through  Jake's  mind  it 
evoked  there  the  image  of  a  dark-eyed 
young  woman  with  a  babe  in  her  lap. 
However,  as  the  sewing  machine  throbbed 
and  writhed  under  Jake's  lusty  kicks,  it 
seemed  to  be  swiftly  carrying  him  away  from 
the  apparition  which  had  the  effect  of  reced- 
ing, as  a  wayside  object  does  from  the  pas- 
senger of  a  flying  train,  until  it  lost  itself  in 
a  misty  distance,  other  visions  emerging  in 
its  place. 

It  was  some  three  years  before  the  open- 
/  ing  of  this  story  that  Jake  had  last  beheld 
that  very  image  in  the  flesh.  But  then  at 
|  that  period  of  his  life  he  had  not  even  sus- 
'  pected  the  existence  of  a  name  like  Jake,  be- 
i  ing  known  to  himself  and  to  all  Povodye — a 
\town  in  northwestern  Russia — as  Yekl  or 
/Yekele. 

It  was  not  as  a  deserter  from  military 
service  that  he  had  shaken  off  the  dust  of 
that  town  where  he  had  passed  the  first 
twenty-two  years  of  his  life.  As  the  only 
son  of  aged  parents  he  had  been  exempt 


20  YEKL. 

from  the  duty  of  bearing  arms.  Jake  may 
have  forgotten  it,  but  his  mother  still  fre- 
quently recurs  to  the  day  when  he  came 
rushing  home,  panting  for  breath,  with  the 
"  red  certificate "  assuring  his  immunity  in 
his  hand.  She  nearly  fainted  for  happiness. 
And  when,  stroking  his  dishevelled  sidelocks 
with  her  bony  hand  and  feasting  her  eye  on 
his  chubby  face,  she  whispered,  "  My  recov- 
ered child  !  God  be  blessed  for  his  mercy  !  " 
there  was  a  joyous  tear  in  his  eye  as  well  as 
in  hers.  Well  does  she  remember  how  she 
gently  spat  on  his  forehead  three  times  to 
avert  the  effect  of  a  possible  evil  eye  on  her 
"  flourishing  tree  of  a  boy,"  and  how  his  fa- 
ther standing  by  made  merry  over  what  he 
called  her  crazy  womanish  tricks,  and  said 
she  had  better  fetch  some  brandy  in  honour 
of  the  glad  event. 

But  if  Yekl  was  averse  to  wearing  a  sol- 
dier's uniform  on  his  own  person  he  was 
none  the  less  fond  of  seeing  it  on  others. 
His  ruling  passion,  even  after  he  had  be- 
come a  husband  and  a  father,  was  to  watch 


JAKE  AND  YEKL.  21 

the  soldiers  drilling  on  the  square  in  front  of 
the  whitewashed  barracks  near  which  stood 
his  father's  smithy.  From  a  cheder  *  boy  he 
showed  a  knack  at  placing  himself  on  terms 
of  familiarity  with  the  Jewish  members  of 
the  local  regiment,  whose  uniforms  struck 
terror  into  the  hearts  of  his  schoolmates. 
He  would  often  play  truant  to  attend  a  mili- 
tary parade  ;  no  lad  in  town  knew  so  many 
Russian  words  or  was  as  well  versed  in  army 
terminology  as  Yekele*  "  Beril  the  black- 
smith's ; "  and  after  he  had  left  cheder,  while 
working  his  father's  bellows,  Yekl  would 
vary  synagogue  airs  with  martial  song. 

Three  years  had  passed  since  Yekl  had 
for  the  last  time  set  his  eyes  on  the  white- 
washed barracks  and  on  his  father's  rickety 
smithy,  which,  for  reasons  indirectly  connect- 
ed with  the  Government's  redoubled  discrim- 
ination against  the  sonsoTTsraetrtadnje- 
corne"irmdequate  to  strpport  two  families  ',\ 


*  A  school  where  Jewish  children  are  instructed 
in  the  Old  Testament  or  the  Talmud. 


22  YEKL. 

three  years  since  that  beautiful  summer 
morning  when  he  had  mounted  the  spacious 
kibitka  which  was  to  cany  him  to  the  fron- 
tier-bound train ;  since,  hurried  by  the  driver, 
he  had  leaned  out  of  the  wagon  to  kiss  his 
half-year  old  son  good-bye  amid  the  heart- 
rending lamentations  of  his  wife,  the  tremu- 
lous "  Go  in  good  health  ! "  of  his  father,  and 
the  startled  screams  of  the  neighbours  who 
rushed  to  the  relief  of  his  fainting  mother. 
The  broken  Russian  learned  among  the  Po- 
vodye  soldiers  he  had  exchanged  for  Eng- 
lish of  a  corresponding  quality,  and  the  bel- 
lows for  a  sewing  machine — a  change  of 
weapons  in  the  battle  of  life  which  had  been 
brought  about  both  by  Yekl's  tender  reli- 
gious feelings  and  robust  legs.  He  had  been 
shocked  by  the  very  notion  of  seeking  em- 
ployment at  his  old  trade  in  a  city  where  it 
is  in  the  hands  of  Christians,  and  conse- 
quently involves  a  violation  of  the  Mosaic 
Sabbath.  On  the  other  hand,  his  legs  had 
been  thought  by  his  early  American  advisers 
eminently  fitted  for  the  treadle.  Unlike 


JAKE  AND   YEKL.  23 

New  York,  the  Jewish  sweat-shops  of  Bos- 
ton keep  in  line,  as  a  rule,  with  the  Christian 
factories  in  observing  Sunday  as  the  only 
day  of  rest.  There  is,  however,  even  in  Bos- 
ton a  lingering  minority  of  bosses — more 
particularly  in  the  "  pants  "-making  branch — 
who  abide  by  the  Sabbath  of  their  fathers. 
Accordingly,  it  was  under  one  of  these  that 
Yekl  had  first  been  initiated  into  the  sweat- 
shop world. 

Subsequently  Jake,  following  numerous 
examples,  had  given  up  "  pants "  for  the 
more  remunerative  cloaks,  and  having  rapid- 
ly attained  skill  in  his  new  trade  he  had  , 
moved  to  New  York,  the  centre  of  the 
cloak-making  industry. 

Soon  after  his  arrival  in  Boston  his  re-j 
ligious   scruples   had   followed  in   the  wake 
of  his~forrner   first  name;    and   it    he  was^T 
still  free  from  work  on  Saturdays  he  found 
many  another  way  of  "  desecrating  the  Sab- 
bath." 

Three  years  had  intervened  since  he  had 
first    set    foot   on   American   soil,   and    the 


24  YEKL. 

thought  of  ever  having  been  a  Yekl  would 
bring  to  Jake's  lips  a  smile  of  patronizing 
commiseration  for  his  former  self.  As  to  his 
Russian  family  name,  which  was  Podkovnik, 
Jake's  friends  had  such  rare  use  for  it  that 
by  mere  negligence  it  had  been  left  intact. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE    NEW    YORK    GHETTO. 

IT  was  after  seven  in  the  evening  when 
Jake  finished  his  last  jacket  Some  of  the 
operators  had  laid  down  their  work  before, 
while  others  cast  an  envious  glance  on  him 
as  he  was  dressing  to  leave,  and  fell  to  their 
machines  with  reluctantly  redoubled  energy. 
Fanny  was  a  week  worker  and  her  time  had 
been  up  at  seven ;  but  on  this  occasion  her 
toilet  had  taken  an  uncommonly  long  time, 
and  she  was  not  ready  until  Jake  got  up 
from  his  chair.  Then  she  left  the  room 
rather  suddenly  and  with  a  demonstrative 
"  Good-night  all !  " 

When  Jake  reached  the  street  he  found 
her  on  the  sidewalk,  making  a  pretense  of 


26  YEKL. 

brushing  one  of  her  sleeves  with  the  cuff  of 
the  other. 

"  So  kvick  ?  "  she  asked,  raising  her  head 
in  feigned  surprise. 

"  You  cull  dot  kvick  ?  "  he  returned  grim- 
ly. "  Good-bye  ! " 

"  Say,  ain't  you  goin'  to  dance  to-night, 
really  ?  "  she  queried  shamefacedly. 

"  I  tol'  you  I  vouldn't." 

"  What  does  she  want  of  me  ?  "  he  com- 
plained to  himself  proceeding  on  his  way. 
He  grew  conscious  of  his  low  spirits,  and, 
tracing  them  with  some  effort  to  their 
source,  he  became  gloomier  still.  "  No  more 
fun  for  me  !  "  he  decided.  "  I  shall  get  them 
over  here  and  begin  a  new  life." 

After  supper,  which  he  had  taken,  as 
usual,  at  his  lodgings,  he  went  out  for  a 
walk.  He  was  firmly  determined  to  keep 
himself  from  visiting  Joe  Peltner's  dancing 
academy,  and  accordingly  he  took  a  direc- 
tion opposite  to  Suffolk  Street,  where  that 
establishment  was  situated.  Having  passed 
a  few  blocks,  however,  his  feet,  contrary  to 


THE  NEW  YORK  GHETTO.  2/ 

his  will,  turned  into  a  side  street  and  thence 
into  one  leading  to  Suffolk.  "  I  shall  only 
drop  in  to  tell  Joe  that  I  can  not  sell  any  of 
his  ball  tickets,  and  return  them,"  he  at- 
tempted to  deceive  his  own  conscience. 
Hailing  this  pretext  with  delight  he  quick- 
ened his  pace  as  much  as  the  overcrowded 
sidewalks  would  allow. 

He  had  to  pick  and  nudge  his  way 
through  dense  swarms  of  bedraggled  half- 
naked  humanity  ;  past  garbage  barrels  rear- 

_ 0  ^   «• 

ing  their  overflowing  contents  in  sickening  ~\ 
piles,  and  lining  the  streets  in  malicious  sug-  *'•' 
gestion  of  rows  of  trees  ;  underneath  tiers 
and  tiers  of  fire  escapes,  barricaded  and  fes- 
tooned with  mattresses,  pillows,  and  feather- 
beds  not  yet  gathered  in  for  the  night.  The 
pent-in  sultry  atmosphere  was  laden  with 
nausea  and  pierced  with  a  discordant  and,  as 
it  were,  plaintive  buzz.  Supper  had  been 
despatched  in  a  hurry,  and  the  teeming  popu- 
lations of  the  cyclopic  tenement  houses  were 
out  in  full  force  "  for  fresh  air,"  as  even  these 
people  will  say  in  mental  quotation  marks. 

3 


28  YEKL. 

Suffolk  Street  is  in  the  very  thick  of  the 
battle  for  breath.  For  it  lies  in  the  .heart  of 
that  part  of  the  East  Side  which  has  within 

I  the  last  two  or  three  decades  become  the 
Ghetto  of  the  American  metropolis,  and,  in- 
deed, the  nie^^rjoljs_of_the  Ghettos  of  the 
world.  It  is  one  of  the  most  densely  popu- 
lated spots  on  the  face  of  the  earth — a  seeth- 
ing human  sea  fed  by  streams,  streamlets, 
and  rills  of  immigration  flowing  from  all  the 
Yiddish-speaking  centres  of  Europe.  Hard- 
ly a  block  but  shelters  Jews  from  every 
nook  and  corner  of  Russia,  Poland,  Galicia, 
Hungary,  Roumania ;  Lithuanian  Jews,  Vol- 
hynian  Jews,  south  Russian  Jews,  Bessara- 
bian  Jews ;  Jews  crowded  out  of  the  "  pale 
of  Jewish  settlement";  Russified  Jews  ex- 
pelled from  Moscow,  St.  Petersburg,  Kieff, 
or  Saratoff;  Jewish  runaways  from  justice; 
Jewish  refugees  from  crying  political  and 
economical  injustice ;  people  torn  from  a 
hard-gained  foothold  in  life  and  from  deep- 
rooted  attachments  by  the  caprice  of  intoler- 
ance or  the  wiles  of  demagoguery — innocent 


THE   NEW  YORK  GHETTO. 


29 


scapegoats  of  a 'guilty  Government  for  its 
outraged  populace  to  misspend  its  blind  fury 
upon ;  students  shut  out  of  the  Russian  uni- 
versities, and  come  to  these  shores  in  quest 
of  learning ;  artisans,  merchants,  teachers, 
rabbis,  artists,  beggars — all  come  in  search  of  > 
fortune.^ 'Nor  is  there  a  tenement  house  but 
harbours  in  its  bosom  specimens  of  all  the 
whimsical  metamorphoses  wrought  upon  the 
children  of  Israel  of  the  great  modern  exo- 
dus by  the  vicissitudes  of  life  in  this  their 
Promised  Land  of  to-day.  You  find  there 
Jews  born  to  plenty,  whom  the  new  condi- 
tions have  delivered  up  to  the  clutches  of 
penury ;  Jews  reared  in  the  straits  of  need, 
who  have  here  risen  to  prosperity ;  good 
people  morally  degraded  in  the  struggle  for 
success  amid  an  unwonted  environment ; 
moral  outcasts  lifted  from  the  mire,  purified, 
and  imbued  with  self-respect ;  educated  men 
and  women  with  their  intellectual  polish 
tarnished  in  the  inclement  weather  of  ad- 
versity ;  ignorant  sons  of  toil  grown  enlight- 
ened— in  fine,  people  with  all  sorts  of  an- 


30  YEKL. 

tecedents,  tastes,  habits,  inclinations,  and 
speaking  all  sorts  of  subdialects  of  the  same 
jargon,  thrown  pellmell  into  one  social  cal- 
dron— a  human  hodgepodge  with  its  compo- 
nent parts  changed  but  not  yet  fused  into 
one  homogeneous^. whole. 


""'^And  so  the  "  stoops,"  sidewalks,  an 
'"'pavements  of  Suffolk  Street  were  thronged 
with  panting,  chattering,  or  frisking  multi- 
tudes. In  one  spot  the  scene  received  a 
kind  of  weird  picturesqueness  from  children 
dancing  on  the  pavement  to  the  strident 
music  hurled  out  into  the  tumultuous  din 
from  a  row  of  the  open  and  brightly  illumi- 
nated windows  of  what  appeared  to  be  a 
new  tenement  house.  Some  of  the  young 
women  on  the  sidewalk  opposite  raised  a 
longing  eye  to  these  windows,  for  floating 
by  through  the  dazzling  light  within  were 
young  women  like  themselves  with  mascu- 
line arms  round  their  waists. 

As  the  spectacle  caught  Jake's  eye  his 
heart  gave  a  leap.  He  violently  pushed  his 
way  through  the  waltzing  swarm,  and  dived 


THE  NEW  YORK  GHETTO.  3! 

into  the  half-dark  corridor  of  the  house 
whence  the  music  issued.  Presently  he 
found  himself  on  the  threshold  and  in  the 
overpowering  air  of  a  spacious  oblong  cham- 
ber, alive  with  a  damp-haired,  dishevelled, 
reeking  crowd — an  uproarious  human  vor- 
tex, whirling  to  the  squeaky  notes  of  a  violin 
and  the  thumping  of  a  piano.  The  room 
was,  judging  by  its  untidy,  once-white- 
washed walls  and  the  uncouth  wooden  pil- 
lars supporting  its  bare  ceiling,  more  accus- 
tomed to  the  whir  of  sewing  machines  than 
to  the  noises  which  filled  it  at  the  present 
moment.  It  took  up  the  whole  of  the  first 
floor  of  a  five-story  house  built  for  large 
sweat-shops,  and  until  recently  it  had  served 
its  original  purpose  as  faithfully  as  the  four 
upper  floors,  which  were  still  the  daily  scenes 
of  feverjsjLindustry.  At  the  further  end  of 
the  room  there  was  now  a  marble  soda  foun- 
tain in  charge  of  an  unkempt  boy.  A 
stocky  young  man  with  a  black  entangle- 
ment of  coarse  curly  hair  was  bustling  about 
among  the  dancers.  Now  and  then  he 


32  YEKL. 

would  pause  with  his  eyes  bent  upon  some 
two  pairs  of  feet,  and  fall  to  clapping  time 
and  drawling  out  in  a  preoccupied  sing- 
song :  "  Von,  two,  tree !  Leeft  you'  feet ! 
Don'  so  kvick — sloy,  sloy !  Von,  two,  tree, 
von,  two,  tree  ! "  This  was  Professor  Pelt- 
ner  himself,  whose  curly  hair,  by  the  way, 
had  more  to  do  with  the  success  of  his  insti- 
tution than  his  stumpy  legs,  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  unanimous  dictum  of  his  male  pu- 
pils, moved  about  "  like  a  regely  pair  of 
bears." 

The  throng  showed  but  a  very  scant 
sprinkling  of  plump  cheeks  and  shapely  fig- 
ures in  a  multitude  of  haggard  faces  and  flac- 
cid forms.  Nearly  all  were  in  their  work-a- 
day  clothes,  very  few  of  the  men  sporting  a 
wilted  white  shirt  front.  And  while  the 
general  effect  of  the  kaleidoscope  was  one  of 
boisterous  hilarity,  many  of  the  individual 
couples  somehow  had  the  air  of  being  en- 
/  gaged  in  hard  toil  rather  than  as  if  they  were 
I  dancing  for  amusement.  The  faces  of  some 
of  these  bore  a  wondering  martyrlike  ex- 


THE  NEW  YORK  GHETTO.  33 

pression,  as  who  should  say,  "  What  have 
we  done  to  be  knocked  about  in  this  man- 
ner ?  "  For  the  rest,  there  were  all  sorts  of 
attitudes  and  miens  in  the  whirling  crowd. 
One  young  fellow,  for  example,  seemed  to 
be  threatening  vengeance  to  the  ceiling, 
while  his  partner  was  all  but  exultantly  ex- 
claiming :  "  Lord  of  the  universe !  What  a 
world  this  be ! "  Another  maiden  looked  as 
if  she  kept  murmuring,  "  You  don't  say ! " 
whereas  her  cavalier  mutely  ejaculated, 
"  Glad  to  try  my  best,  your  noble  birth  ! " — 
after  the  fashion  of  a  Russian  soldier. 

The  prevailing  stature  of  the  assemblage 
was  rather  below  medium.  This  does  not 
include  the  dozen  or  two  of  undergrown 
lasses  of  fourteen  or  thirteen  who  had  come 
surreptitiously,  and — to  allay  the  suspicion 
of  their  mothers — in  their  white  aprons. 
They  accordingly  had  only  these  articles  to 
check  at  the  hat  box,  and  hence  the  nick- 
name of  "  apron-check  ladies,"  by  which  this 
truant  contingent  was  known  at  Joe's  acad- 
emy. So  that  as  Jake  now  stood  in  the 


34  YEKL. 

doorway  with  an  orphaned  collar  button  glis- 
tening out  of  the  band  of  his  collarless  shirt 
front  and  an  affected  expression  of  ennui 
overshadowing  his  face,  his  strapping  figure 
towered  over  the  circling  throng  before  him. 
He  was  immediately  noticed  and  beca-me  the 
target  for  hellos,  smiles,  winks,  and  all  man- 
ner of  pleasantry  :  "  Vot  you  stand  like  dot  ? 
You  vont  to  loin  dantz  ?  "  or  "  You  a  detec- 
tiff?"  or  "You  vont  a  job?"  or,  again,  "  Is 
it  hot  anawff  for  you  ?  "  To  all  of  which 
Jake  returned  an  invariable  "  Yep ! "  each 
time  resuming  his  bored  mien. 

As  he  thus  gazed  at  the  dancers,  a  feel- 
ing of  envy  came  over  him.  "  Look  at 
them ! "  he  said  to  himself  begrudgingly. 
How  merry  they  are !  Such  shnoozes% 
hey  can  hardly  set  a  foot  well,  and  yet  they 
re  free,  while  I  am  a  married  man.  But 
wait  till  you  get  married,  too,"  he  prospec- 
tively  avenged  himself  on  Joe's  pupils  ;  "  we 
shall  see  how  you  will  then  dance  and 
jump  k^7 

Presently  a  wave  ,of  Joe's  hand  brought 


THE  NEW  YORK   GHETTO.  35 

the  music  and  the  trampling  to  a  pause. 
The  girls  at  once  took  their  seats  on  the 
"  ladies'  bench,"  while  the  bulk  of  the  men 
retired  to  the  side  reserved  for  "  gents  only." 
Several  apparent  post-graduates  nonchalant- 
ly overstepped  the  boundary  line,  and,  noth- 
ing daunted  by  the  professor's  repeated 
"  Zents  to  de  right  an'  ladess  to  the  left ! " 
unrestrainedly  kept  their  girls  chuckling. 
At  all  events,  Joe  soon  desisted,  his  atten- 
tion being  diverted  by  the  soda  department 
of  his  business.  "  Sawda ! "  he  sang  out. 
"  Ull  kin's  !  Sam,  you  ought  ashamed  you'- 
selv ;  vy  don'tz  you  treat  you'  lada  ?  " 

In  the  meantime  Jake  was  the  centre  of 
a  growing  bevy  of  both  sexes.  He  refused 
to  unbend  and  to  enter  into  their  facetious 
mood,  and  his  morose  air  became  the  topic 
of  their  persiflage. 

By-and-bye  Joe  came  scuttling  up  to  his 
side.  "  Goot-evenig,  Dzake ! "  he  greeted 
him ;  "  I  didn't  seen  you  at  ull !  Say,  Dzake, 
I'll  take  care  dis  site  an'  you  take  care  dot 
site — ull  right  ?  " 


36  YEKL. 

"Alia  right!"  Jake  responded  gruffly. 
"  Gentsh,  getch  you  partnesh,  hawrry  up  ! " 
he  commanded  in  another  instant. 

The  sentence  was  echoed  by  the  dancing 
master,  who  then  blew  on  his  whistle  a  pro- 
longed shrill  warble,  and  once  again  the  floor 
was  set  straining  under  some  two  hundred 
pounding,  gliding,  or  scraping  feet. 

"Don*  bee  'fraid.  Gu  right  aheat  an' 
getch  you  partner ! "  Jake  went  on  yelling 
right  and  left.  "  Don*  be  'shamed,  Mish  Co- 
hen. Dansh  mit  dot  gentlemarn ! "  he  said, 
as  he  unceremoniously  encircled  Miss  Co- 
hen's waist  with  "dot  gentlemarn's "  arm. 
"  Cholly  !  vot's  de  madder  mitch  you  f  You 
do  hop  like  a  Cossack,  as  true  as  I  am  a 
Jew,"  he  added,  indulging  in  a  momentary 
lapse  into  Yiddish.  English  was  the  official 
language  of  the  academy,  where  it  was 
broken  and  mispronounced  in  as  many  dif- 
ferent ways  as  there  were  Yiddish  dialects 
represented  in  that  institution.  "  Dot'sh  de 
vay,  look!"  With  which  Jake  seized  from 
Charley  a  lanky  fourteen-year-old  Miss  Ja- 


THE  NEW  YORK  GHETTO.  37 

cobs,  and  proceeded  to  set  an  example  of 
correct  waltzing,  much  to  the  unconcealed 
delight  of  the  girl,  who  let  her  head  rest  on 
his  breast  with  an  air  of  reverential  gratitude 
and  bliss,  and  to  the  embarrassment  of  her 
cavalier,  who  looked  at  the  evolutions  of 
Jake's  feet  without  seeing. 

Presently  Jake  was  beckoned  away  to  a 
corner  by  Joe,  whereupon  Miss  Jacobs,  look- 
ing daggers  at  the  little  professor,  sulked  off 
to  a  distant  seat. 

"  Dzake,  do  me  a  faver ;  hask  Mamie  to 
gib  dot  feller  a  couple  a  dantzes,"  Joe  said 
imploringly,  pointing  to  an  ungainly  young 
man  who  was  timidly  viewing  the  pande- 
monium-like spectacle  from  the  further  end 
of  the  "  gent's  bench."  "  I  hasked  'er  myself, 
but  se  don'  vonted.  He's  a  beesness  man, 
you  'destan',  an'  he  kan  a  lot  o'  fellers  an'  I 
vonted  make  him  satetzfiet." 

"  Dot  monkey  ?  "  said  Jake.  "  Vot  you 
talkin'  aboyt !  She  vouldn't  lishn  to  me  nei- 
der,  honesht." 

"  Say  dot  you  don'  vonted  and  dot's  ull." 


38  YEKL. 

"  Alia  right ;  I'm  goin'  to  ashk  her,  but  I 
know  it  vouldn't  be  of  naw  used." 

"  Never  min',  you  hask  'er  foist.  You 
knaw  se  vouldn't  refuse  you!"  Joe  urged, 
with  a  knowing  grin. 

"  Hoy  much  vill  you  bet  she  will  refushe 
shaw?"  Jake  rejoined  with  insincere  vehe- 
mence, as  he  whipped  out  a  handful  of 
change. 

"  Vot  kin*  foon  a  man  you  are !  Ulle- 
ways  like  to  bet!"  said  Joe,  deprecatingly. 
"'F  cuss  it  depend  mit  vot  kin'  a  mout'  you 
vill  hask,  you  'destan'  ?  " 

"  By  gum,  Jaw  !  Vot  you  take  me  for  ? 
Ven  I  shay  I  ashk,  I  ashk.  You  knaw  I 
don'  like  no  monkey  beeshnesh.  Ven  I 
promish  anytink  I  do  it  shquare,  dot'sh  a 
kin'  a  man  /  am  ! "  And  once  more  protest- 
ing his  firm  conviction  that  Mamie  would 
disregard  his  request,  he  started  to  prove 
that  she  would  not. 

He  had  to  traverse  nearly  the  entire 
length  of  the  hall,  and,  notwithstanding  that 
he  was  compelled  to  steer  clear  of  the  danc- 


THE  NEW  YORK  GHETTO.  39 

ers,  he  contrived  to  effect  the  passage  at  the 
swellest  of  his  gaits,  which  means  that  he 
jauntily  bobbed  and  lurched,  after  the  man- 
ner of  a  blacksmith  tugging  at  the  bellows, 
and  held  up  his  enormous  bullet  head  as  if 
he  were  bidding  defiance  to  the  whole  world. 
Finally  he  paused  in  front  of  a  girl  with  a 
superabundance  of  pitch-black  side  bangs 
and  with  a  pert,  ill  natured,  pretty  face  of 
the  most  strikingly  Semitic  cast  in  the  whole 
gathering.  She  looked  twenty-three  or 
more,  was  inclined  to  plumpness,  and  her 
shrewd  deep  dark  eyes  gleamed  out  of  a 
warm  gipsy  complexion.  Jake  found  her 
seated  in  a  fatigued  attitude  on  a  chair  near 
the  piano. 

11  Good-evenig,  Mamie!"  he  said,  bow- 
ing with  mock  gallantry. 

"  Rats ! " 

"  Shay,  Mamie,  give  dot  feller  a  tvisht, 
vill  you  ?  " 

"  Dot  slob  again  ?  Joe  must  tink  if  you 
ask  me  I'll  get  scared,  ain't  it  ?  Go  and  tell 
him  he  is  too  fresh,"  she  said  with  a  con- 


40  YEKL- 

temptuous  grimace.  Like  the  majority  of 
the  girls  of  the  academy,  Mamie's  English 
was  a  much  nearer  approach  to  a  justifica- 
tion of  its  name  than  the  gibberish  spoken 
by  the  men. 

Jake  felt  routed ;  but  he  put  a  bold  face  on 
it  and  broke  out  with  studied  resentment : 

"Vot  you  kickin'  aboyt,  anyhoy?  Jaw 
don'  mean  notin'  at  ull.  If  you  don' 
vonted  never  min',  an'  dot'sh  ull.  It  don' 
cut  a  figger,  shee?"  And  he  feignedly 
turned  to  go. 

"  Look  how  kvick  he  gets  excited  ! "  she 
said,  surrender ingly. 

"  I  ain't  get  ekshitet  at  ull ;  but  vot'sh  de 
used  a  makin'  monkey  beesnesh  ?  "  he  retort- 
ed with  triumphant  acerbity. 

"You  are  a  monkey  you'self,"  she  re- 
turned with  a  playful  pout. 

The  compliment  was  acknowledged  by 
one  of  Jake's  blandest  grins. 

"An'  you  are  a  monkey  from  monkey- 
land,"  he  said.  "  Vill  you  dansh  mit  dot 
feller?" 


THE  NEW  YORK  GHETTO.  41 

"  Rats !    Vot  vill  you  give  me  ?  " 

"  Vot  should  I  give  you  ?  "  he  asked  im- 
patiently. 

"  Vill  you  treat  ?  " 

"  Treat  ?  Ger-rr  oyt ! "  he  replied  with  a 
sweeping  kick  at  space. 

"  Den  I  von't  dance." 

"  Alia  right.  I'll  treat  you  mit  a  coupel 
a  waltch." 

"Is  dot  so ?  You  must  really  tink 
I  am  swooning  to  dance  vit  you,"  she 
said,  dividing  the  remark  between  both 
jargons. 

"Look  at  her,  look!  she  is  a  regely 
getzke  * :  one  must  take  off  one's  cap  to 
speak  to  her.  Don't  you  always  say  you 
like  to  dansh  with  me  becush  I  am  a  good 
dansher  f  " 

"You  must  tink  you  are  a  peach  of  a 

dancer,  ain'  it  ?     Bennie  can  dance  a  

sight   better   dan  you,"   she  recurred  to  her 
English. 

*  A  crucifix. 


42  YEKL- 

"  Alia  right !  "  he  said  tartly.  "  So  you 
don'  vonted  ?  " 

"  O  sugar !  He  is  gettin'  mad  again. 
Veil,  who  is  de  getzke,  me  or  you?  All 
right,  I'll  dance  vid  de  slob.  But  it's  only 
becuss  you  ask  me,  mind  you!"  she  added 
fawningly. 

"  Dot'sh  alia  right ! "  he  rejoined,  with  an 
affectation  of  gravity,  concealing  his  triumph. 
"  But  you  makin'  too  much  fush.  I  like  to 
shpeak  plain,  shee  ?  Dot'sh  a  kin'  a  man  / 
am." 

The  next  two  waltzes  Mamie  danced 
with  the  ungainly  novice,  taking  exagger- 
ated pains  with  him.  Then  came  a  lan- 
cers, Joe  calling  out  the  successive  move- 
ments huckster  fashion.  His  command  was 
followed  by  less  than  half  of  the  class,  how- 
ever, for  the  greater  part  preferred  to  avail 
themselves  of  the  same  music  for  waltzing. 
Jake  was  bent  upon  giving  Mamie  what  he 
-  called  a  "  sholid  good  time " ;  and,  as  she 
shared  his  view  that  a  square  or  fancy  dance 
was  as  flimsy  an  affair  as  a  stick  of  candy, 


THE   NEW  YORK  GHETTO.  43 

they  joined  or,  rather,  led  the  seceding  ma- 
jority. They  spun  along  with  all-forgetful 
gusto ;  every  little  while  he  lifted  her  on  his 
powerful  arm  and  gave  her  a  "  mill,"  he  yelp- 
ing and  she  squeaking  for  sheer  ecstasy,  as 
he  did  so ;  and  throughout  the  performance 
his  face  and  his  whole  figure  seemed  to  be 
exclaiming,  "  Dot'sh  a  kin'  a  man  /  am  ! " 

Several  waifs  stood  in  a  cluster  admiring 
or  begrudging  the  antics  of  the  star  couple. 
Among  these  was  lanky  Miss  Jacobs  and 
Fanny  the  Preacher,  who  had  shortly  before 
made  her  appearance  in  the  hall,  and  now 
stood  pale  and  forlorn  by  the  "  apron-check  " 
girl's  side. 

"  Look  at  the  way  she  is  stickin'  to 
him ! "  the  little  girl  observed  with  envious 
venom,  her  gaze  riveted  to  Mamie,  whose 
shapely  head  was  at  this  moment  reclining 
on  Jake's  shoulders,  with  her  eyes  half  shut, 
as  if  melting  in  a  transport  of  bliss. 

Fanny  felt  cut  to  the  quick. 

"  You  are  jealous,  ain't  you  ?  "  she  jerked 
out. 


44  YEKL- 

"  Who,  me  ?  Vy  should  I  be  jealous  ?  " 
Miss  Jacobs  protested,  colouring.  "  On  my 

part  let  them  both  go  to .  You  must 

be  jealous.  Here,  here !  See  how  your 
eyes  are  creeping  out  looking !  Here, 
here!"  she  teased  her  offender  in  Yiddish, 
poking  her  little  finger  at  her  as  she  spoke. 

"  Will  you  shut  your  scurvy  mouth,  little 
piece  of  ugliness,  you?  Such  a  piggish 
apron  check  !  "^  poor  Fanny  burst  out  under 
breath,  tears  starting  to  her  eyes. 

"  Such  a  nasty  little  runt ! "  another  girl 
chimed  in. 

"  Such  a  little  cricket  already  knows 
what  '  jealous'  is ! "  a  third  of  the  bystanders 
put  in.  "  You  had  better  go  home  or  your 
mamma  will  give  you  a  spanking."  Where- 
at the  little  cricket  made  a  retort,  which  had 
better  be  left  unrecorded. 

"  To  think  of  a  bit  of  a  flea  like  that  hav- 
ing so  much  cheek!  Here  is  America  for 
you ! " 

"  America  for  a  country  and  '  dod'll  do ' 
[that'll  do]  for  a  language  ! "  observed  one  of 


THE  NEW  YORK  GHETTO.  45 

the  young  men  of  the  group,  indulging  one 
of  the  stereotype  jokes  of  the  Ghetto. 

The  passage  at  arms  drew  Jake's  atten- 
tion to  the  little  knot  of  spectators,  and  his 
eye  fell  on  Fanny.  Whereupon  he  sum- 
marily relinquished  his  partner  on  the  floor, 
and  advanced  toward  his  shopmate,  who, 
seeing  him  approach,  hastened  to  retreat  to  ' 
the  girls'  bench,  where  she  remained  seated 
with  a  drooping  head. 

"  Hello,  Fanny ! "  he  shouted  briskly, 
coming  up  in  front  of  her. 

"Hello!"  she  returned  rigidly,  her  eyes 
fixed  on  the  dirty  floor. 

"  Come,  give  ush  a  tvisht,  vill  you  ?  " 

"  But  you  ain't  goin'  by  Joe  to-night ! " 
she  answered,  with  a  withering  curl  of  her 
lip,  her  glance  still  on  the  ground.  "  Go  to 
your  lady,  she'll  be  mad  atch  you." 

"  I  didn't  vonted  to  gu  here,  honesht, 
Fanny.  I  o'ly  come  to  tell  Jaw  shometin', 
an'  dot'sh  ull,"  he  said  guiltily. 

"  Why  should  you  apologize  ?  "  she  ad- 
dressed the  tip  of  her  shoe  in  her  mother 


46  YEKL. 

tongue.  "  As  if  he  was  obliged  to  apologize 
to  me !  For  my  part  you  can  dance  with 
her  day  and  night.  Vot  do  I  care  ?  As  if 
I  cared!  I  have  only  come  to  see  what  a 
bluffer  you  are.  Do  you  think  I  am  &fool? 
As  smart  as  your  Mamie,  anyvay.  As  if  I 
had  not  known  he  wanted  to  make  me  stay 
at  home  !  What  are  you  afraid  of  ?  Am  I 
in  your  way  then  ?  As  if  I  was  in  his  way  ! 
What  business  have  I  to  be  in  your  way  ? 
Who  is  in  your  way  ?  " 

While  she  was  thus  speaking  in  her  vol- 
uble, querulous,  harassing  manner,  Jake 
stood  with  his  hands  in  his  trousers'  pockets, 
in  an  attitude  of  mock  attention.  Then, 
suddenly  losing  patience,  he  said  : 

"Dotsh  alia  right!  You  will  finish 
your  sermon  afterward.  And  in  the  mean- 
time lesh  have  a  valtz  from  the  land  of 
valtzes  !  "  With  which  he  forcibly  dragged 
her  off  her  seat,  catching  her  round  the 
waist. 

"  But  I  don't  need  it,  I  don't  wish  it ! 
Go  to  your  Mamie!"  she  protested,  strug- 


THE  NEW  YORK   GHETTO.  47 

gling.  "  I  tell  you  I  don't  need  it,  I  don't 

"  The  rest  of  the  sentence  was  choked 

off  by  her  violent  breathing ;  for  by  this  time 
she  was  spinning  with  Jake  like  a  top. 
After  another  moment's  pretense  at  strug- 
gling to  free  herself  she  succumbed,  and  pres- 
ently clung  to  her  partner,  the  picture  of  tri- 
umph and  beatitude. 

Meanwhile  Mamie  had  walked  up  to 
Joe's  side,  and  without  much  difficulty 
caused  him  to  abandon  the  lancers  party  to 
themselves,  and  to  resume  with  her  the  waltz 
which  Jake  had  so  abruptly  broken  off. 

In  the  course  of  the  following  intermis- 
sion she  diplomatically  seated  herself  beside 
her  rival,  and  paraded  her  tranquillity  of 
mind  by  accosting  her  with  a  question  on 
shop  matters.  Fanny  was  not  blind  to  the 
manoeuvre,  but  her  exultation  was  all  the 
greater  for  it,  and  she  participated  in  the  en- 
suing conversation  with  exuberant  geniality. 

By-and-bye  they  were  joined  by  Jake. 

"  Veil,  vill  you  treat,  Jake  ?  "  said  Mamie. 

M  Vot  you  vant,  a  kish  ?  "  he  replied,  put- 


48  YEKL. 

ting  his  offer  in  action  as  well  as  in  lan- 
guage. 

Mamie  slapped  his  arm. 

"  May  the  Angel  of  Death  kiss  you  ! " 
said  her  lips  in  Yiddish.  "  Try  again ! " 
her  glowing  face  overruled  them  in  a  dia- 
lect of  its  own. 

Fanny  laughed. 

"  Once  I  am  treating,  both  ladas  must 
be  treated  alike,  airi  it  ?  "  remarked  the  gal- 
lant, and  again  he  proved  himself  as  good  as 
his  word,  although  Fanny  struggled  with 
greater  energy  and  ostensibly  with  more  real 
indignation. 

"  But  vy  don't  you  treat,  you  stingy 
loafer  you  ?  " 

"  Vot  elsh  you  vant  ?  A  peench  ?  "  He 
was  again  on  the  point  of  suiting  the  action 
to  the  word,  but  Mamie  contrived  to  repay 
the  pinch  before  she  had  received  it,  and 
added  a  generous  piece  of  profanity  into  the 
bargain.  Whereupon  tnere  ensued  a  scuffle 
of  a  character  which  defies  description  in 
more  senses  than  one. 


THE  NEW  YORK  GHETTO.  49 

x — -  ~~~ \ 

Nevertheless  Jake  marched  his  two  "  la-      f 

das  "  up  to  the  marble  fountain,  and  regaled     ( 
them  with  two  cents'  worth  of  soda  each. 

x- 

An  hour  or  so  later,  when  Jake  got  out 
into  the  street,  his  breast  pocket  was  loaded 
with  a  fresh  batch  of  "  Professor  Peltner's 
Grand  Annual  Ball "  tickets,  and  his  two 
arms — with  Mamie  and  Fanny  respectively. 

"  As  soon  as  I  get  my  wages  I'll  call  on 
the  installment   agent  and   give   him  a  de-    i 
posit  for  a  steamship  ticket,"  presently  glim-   / 
mered  through  his  mind,  as  he  adjusted  his  /    i 
hold  upon  the   two  girls,  snugly  gathering  r^\ 
them  to  his  sides.  *C    « 


CHAPTER   III. 

IN    THE    GRIP    OF    HIS    PAST. 

JAKE  had  never  even  vaguely  abandoned 
the  idea  of  supplying  his  wife  and  child  with 


the  means  of  coming  to  join  him.  He  was 
more  or  less  prompt  in  remitting  her  month- 
ly allowance  of  ten  rubles,  and  the  visit  to 
the  draft  and  passage  office  had  become 
part  of  the  routine  of  his  life.  It  had  the 
invariable  effect  of  arousing  his  dormant 
scruples,  and  he  hardly  ever  left  the  office 
-.without  ascertaining  the  price  of  a  steerage 
*  (voyage  from  Hamburg  to  New  York.  But 
no  sooner  did  he  emerge  from  the  dingy 
sement  into  the  noisy  scenes  of  Essex 


•vl  Street,   than   he  would   consciously   let   his 
N|     . 
mind  wander  off  to  other  topics. 


IN  THE  GRIP  OF  HIS  PAST.  51 

Formerly,  during  the  early  part  of  his  so- 
journ in  Boston,  his  landing  place,  where 
some  of  his  townsfolk  resided  and  where  he 
had  passed  his  first  two  years  in  America,  he 
used  to  mention  his  Gitl  and  his  Yossele"  so 
frequently  and  so  enthusiastically,  that  some 
wags  among  the  Hanover  Street  tailors 
would  sing  "  Yekl  and  wife  and  the  baby  "  to 
-the  tune  of  Molly  and  I  and  the  Baby. 
In  the  natural  rmirep  of  things,  however, 
these  retrospective  effusions  gTariuaHy  h*- 
came  far  between,  and  since  he  had  shifted 
his  abode  to  New  York  he  carefully  avoided 
all  reference  to  his  antecedents.  The  Jewish 
quarter  of  the  metropolis,  which  is  a  vast  and 
compact  city  within  a  city,  offers  its  denizens 
incomparably  fewer  chances  of  contact  with 
the  English-speaking  portion  of  the  popula- 
tion than  any  of  the  three  separate  Ghettos 
of  Boston.  As  a  consequence,  since  Jake's 
advent  to  New  York  his  passion  for  Ameri- 
can sport  had  considerably  cooled  off.  And, 
to  make  up  for  this,  his  enthusiastic  nature 
before  long  found  vent  in  dancing  and  in  a 


52  YEKL. 

general  life  of  gallantry.  His  proved  knack 
with  the  gentle  sex  had  turned  his  head  and 
now  cost  him  all  his  leisure  time.  Still,  he 
would  occasionally  attend  some  variety  show 
in  which  boxing  was  the  main  drawing  card, 
and  somehow  managed  to  keep  track  of  the 
salient  events  of  the  sporting  world  gener- 
ally. Judging  from  his  unstaid  habits  and 
happy-go-lucky  abandon  to  the  pleasures  of 
life,  his  present  associates  took  it  for  granted 
that  he  was  single,  and  instead  of  twitting 
him  with  the  feigned  assumption  that  he  had 
deserted  a  family — a  piece  of  burlesque  as 
old  as  the  Ghetto — they  would  quiz  him  as 
to  which  of  his  girls  he  was  "  dead  struck  " 
on,  and  as  to  the  day  fixed  for  the  wedding. 
On  more  than  one  such  occasion  he  had  on 
the  tip  of  his  tongue  the  seemingly  jocular 
question,  "  How  do  you  know  I  am  not  mar- 
ried already?"  But  he  never  let  the  sen- 
tence cross  his  lips,  and  would,  instead,  ob- 
serve facetiously  that  he  was  not  "  shtruck 
on  nu  goil,"  and  that  he  was  dead  struck  on 
all  of  them  in  "  whulshale."  "  I  hate  retail 


IN   THE  GRIP  OF   HIS  PAST.  53 

beesnesh,  shee?-  Dot'sh  a'  kin'  a  man  / 
am  ! "  One  day,  in  the  course  of  an  intimate 
conversation  with  Joe,  Jake,  dropping  into  a 
philosophical  mood,  remarked : 

"  It's  something  like  a  baker,  airit  it  f 
The  more  cakes  he  has  the  less  he  likes 
them.  You  and  I  have  a  lot  of  girls  ;  that's 
why  we  don't  care  for  any  one  of  them." 

But  if  his  attachment  for  the  girls  of  his 
acquaintance   collectively   was   not    coupled 
with  a  quivering  of  his  heart  for  any  individ- 
ual Mamie,  or  Fanny,  or  Sarah,  it  did  not, 
on  the  other  hand,  preclude  a  certain  linger- 
ing tenderness  for  his  wife.     But  then  his 
wife  had  long  since  ceased  to  be  what  she 
/  had  been  of  yore.     From  a  reality  she  had 
\gradually  become  transmuted  into  a  fancy. 

1 

During  the  three  years  since  he  had  set  foot 
,  *on  the   soil,  where  a  "  shister  *  becomes  a 


l^rnister  and  a  mister  a  shister,"  he  had  lived  so 

-  much  more  than  three  years — so  much  more, 

in   fact,   than   in   all    the   twenty-two  years 


Yiddish  for  shoemaker. 


54  YEKL-  ' 

of  his  previous  life — that  his  Russian  past 
appeared  to  him  a.  dream  and  his  wife  and 
child,  together  with  his  former  self,  fellow- 
characters  in  a  charming  tale,  which  he  was 
neither  willing  to.  banish  from  his  memory 
nor  able  to  reconcile  with  the  actualities  of 
his  American  present.  The  question  of  how 
to  effect  this  reconciliation,  and  of  causing 
Gitl  and  little  Yossele"  to  step  out  of  the 
thickening  haze  of  reminiscence  and  to  take 
their  stand  by  his  side  as  living  parts  of  his 
daily  life,  was  a  fretful  subject  from  the  con- 
sideration of  which  he  cowardly  shrank.  He 
wished  he  could  both  import  his  family  and 
continue  his  present  mode  of  life.  At  the 
bottom  of  his  soul  he  wondered  why  this 
should  not  be  feasible.  But  *he  knew  that  it 
^<  <j  was  not,  and  his  heart  would  sink  at  the  no- 
of  forfeiting  the  lion's  share  of  atten- 
tions for  which  he  came  in  at  the  hands  of 
those  who  lionized  him.  Moreover,  how 
will  he  look  people  in  the  face  in  view  of  the 
lie  he  has  been  acting?  He  longed  for  an 
interminable  respite.  But  as  sooner  or  later 


4IN  THE. GRIP  OF   HIS   PAST.  55 

the  minds  of  his  acquaintances  were  bound 
to  become  disabused,  and  he  would  have  to 
face  it  all  out  anyway,  he  was  many  a  time 
on  the  point  of  making  a  clean  breast  of  it, 
and  failed  to  do  so  for  a  mere  lack  of  nerve, 
epch  time  letting  himself  off  on  the  plea  that 
a  week  or  two  before  his  wife's  arrival  would 
be  -a  more  auspicious  occasion  for  the  dis- 
closure. 

Neither  Jake  nor  his  wife  nor  his  parents 
could  write  even  Yiddish,  although  both  he 
and  his  old  father  read  fluently  the  punctu- 
ated Hebrew  of  the  Old  Testament  or  the 
Prayer-book.  Their  correspondence  had 
therefore  to  be  carried  on  by  proxy,  and,  as 
a  consequence,  at  longer  intervals  than  would 
have  been  the  case  otherwise.  The  missives 
which  he  received  differed  materially  in 
length,  style,  -and  degree  of  illiteracy  as  well 
as  in  point  of  penmanship ;  but  they  all 
agreed  in  containing  glowing  encomiums  of 
little  Yossele*,  exhorting  Yekl  not  to  stray 
from  the  path  of  righteousness,  and  reproach- 
fully asking  whether  he  ever  meant  to  send 


56  YEKL. 

the  ticket.  The  latter  point  had  an  exasper- 
ating effect  on  Jake.  There  were  times, 
however,  when  it  would  touch  his  heart  and 
elicit  from  him  his  threadbare  vow  to  send 
the  ticket  at  once.  But  then  he  never  had 

\  money  enough  to  redeem  it.  And,  to  tell 
the  truth,  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart  he  was 

j  at  such  moments  rather  glad  of  his  poverty. 
At  all  events,  the  man  who  wrote  Jake's  let- 
ters had  a  standing  order  to  reply  in  the 
sharpest  terms  at  his  command  that  Yekl 
did  not  spend  his  money  on  drink ;  that 
America  was  not  the  landtheyjtook.  it  for, 
where  one~  could  "  scoop^gold, Jby  the  skirt- 
fujj"  that  Gitl  need  not  fear  lest  he  meant  to 
desert  her,  and  that  as  soon  as  he  had  saved 
enough  to  pay  her  way  and  to  set  up  a  de- 
cent establishment  she  would  be  sure  to  get 
the  ticket. 

Jake's  scribe  was  an  old  Jew  who  kept  a 
little  stand  on  Pitt  Street,  which  is  one  of 
the  thoroughfares  and  market  places  of  the 
Galician  quarter  of  the  Ghetto,  and  where 
Jake  was  unlikely  to  come  upon  any  people 


IN  THE  GRIP  OF  HIS  PAST.  57 

of  his  acquaintance.  The  old  man  scraped 
together  his  livelihood  by  selling  Yiddish 
newspapers  and  cigarettes,  and  writing  letters 
for  a  charge  varying,  according  to  the  length 
of  the  epistle,  from  five  to  ten  cents.  Each 
time  Jake  received  a  letter  he  would  take 
it  to  the  Galician,  who  would  first  read  it 
to  him  (for  an  extra  remuneration  of  one 
cent)  and  then  proceed  to  pen  five  cents' 
worth  of  rhetoric,  which  might  have  been 
printed  and  forwarded  one  copy  at  a  time 
for  all  the  additions  or  alterations  Jake  ever 
caused  to  be  made  in  it 

£. "  What  else  shall  I  write  ? "  the  old  man 
would  ask  his  patron,  after  having  written 
and  read  aloud  the  first  dozen  lines,  which 

^  Jake  had  come  to  know  by  heart/J 

.      "  How  do  /know?"  Jake  would  respond. 

j^  T  It  is  you  who  can  write ;  so  you  ought  to 
understand  what  else  to  write." 

And   the   scribe  would  go  on  to  write 

(what  he  had  written  on  almost  every  pre- 
vious occasion.  Jake  would  keep  the  letter 
in  his  pocket  until  he  had  spare  United 


58  YEKL. 

States  money  enough  to  convert  into  ten 
rubles,  and  then  he  would  betake  himself 
to  the  draft  office  and  have  the  amount,  to- 
gether with  the  well-crumpled  epistle,  for- 
warded to  Povodye. 

And  so  it  went  month  in  and  month 
out. 

The  first  letter  which  reached  Jake  after 
the  scene  at  Joe  Peltner's  dancing  academy 
came  so  unusually  close  upon  its  predecessor 
that  he  received  it  from  his  landlady's  hand 
with  a  throb  of  misgiving.  He  had  always 
laboured  under  the  presentiment  that  some 
unknown  enemies — for  he  had  none  that  he 
could  name — would  some  day  discover  his 
wife's  address  and  anonymously  represent 
him  to  her  as  contemplating  another  mar- 
riage, in  order  to  bring  Gitl  down  upon  him 
unawares.  His  first  thought  accordingly 
was  that  this  letter  was  the  outcome  of  such 
a  conspiracy.  "  Or  maybe  there  is  some 
death  in  the  family  ?  "  he  next  reflected,  half 
with  terror  and  half  with  a  feeling  almost 
amounting  to  reassurance. 


IX   THE  GRIP  OF   HIS   PAST.  59 

When  the  cigarette  vender  unfolded  the 
letter  he  found  it  to  be  of  such  unusual 
length  that  he  stipulated  an  additional  cent 
for  the  reading  of  it. 

"Alia  right,  hurry  up  now!"  Jake  said, 
grinding  his  teeth  on  a  mumbled  English 
oath. 

"  Righd  evay !  Righd  evay!n  the  old 
fellow  returned  jubilantly,  as  he  hastily  ad- 
justed his  spectacles  and  addressed  himself 
to  his  task. 

The  letter  had  evidently  been  penned  by 
some  one  laying  claim  to  Hebrew  scholar- 
ship and  ambitious  to  impress  the  New 
KVorld  with  it ;  for  it  was  quite  replete  with 
po~elic  digressions,  strained  and  twisted  to 
suit  some  quotation  from  the  Bible.  And 
what  with  this  unstinted  verbosity,  which 
was  Greek  to  Jake,  one  or  two  interrup- 
tions by  the  old  man's  customers,  and  inter- 
pretations necessitated  by  difference  of  dia- 
lect, a  quarter  of  an  hour  had  elapsed  before 
the  scribe  realized  the  trend  of  what  he  was 
reading. 

5 

-' 


60  YEKL- 

Then  he  suddenly  gave  a  start,  as  if 
shocked. 

"  Vot'sh  a  madder  ?     Vot'sh  a  madder  ?  " 

"  Vofs  der  madder  f  What  should  be 
the  madder?  Wait — a — I  don't  know  what 
I  can  do  " — he  halted  in  perplexity. 

"  Any  bad  news  ?  "  Jake  inquired,  turning 
pale.  "  Speak  out ! " 

"  Speak  out !  It  is  all  very  well  for  you 
to  say  '  speak  out.'  You  forget  that  one  is  a 
piece  of  Jew,"  he  faltered,  hinting  at  the  or- 
thodox custom  which  enjoins  a  child  of  Is- 
rael from  being  the  messenger  of  sad  tidings. 

"  Don't  bodder  a  head ! "  Jake  shouted 
savagely.  "  I  have  paid  you,  haven't  I  ?  " 

"  Say,  young  man,  you  need  not  be  so 
angry,"  the  other  said,  resentfully.  "  Half  of 
the  letter  I  have  read,  have  I  not  ?  so  I  shall 
refund  you  one  cent  and  leave  me  in  peace." 
He  took  to  fumbling  in  his  pockets  for  the 
coin,  with  apparent  reluctance. 

"Tell  me  what  is  the  matter,"  Jake  en- 
treated, with  clinched  fists.  "  Is  anybody 
dead  ?  Do  tell  me  now." 


IN   THE   GRIP   OF   HIS   PAST.  6 1 

"  Veil,  since  you  know  it  already,  I  may 
as  well  tell  you,"  said  the  scribe  cunningly, 
glad  to  retain  the  cent  and  Jake's  patronage. 
"It  is  your  father  who  has  been  freed ;  may 
he  have  a  bright  paradise." 

"Ha?"  Jake  asked  aghast,  with  a  wide 
gape. 

The  Galician  resumed  the  reading  in  sol- 
emn, doleful  accents.  The  melancholy  pas- 
sage was  followed  by  a  jeremiade  upon  the 
penniless  condition  of  the  family  and  Jake's 
duty  to  send  the  ticket  without  further 
procrastination.  As  to  his  mother,  she  pre- 
ferred the  Povodye  graveyard  to  a  wa- 
tery sepulchre,  and  hoped  that  her  be- 
loved and  only  son,  the  apple  of  her  eye, 
whom  she  had  been  awake  nights  to  bring 
up  to  manhood,  and  so  forth,  would  not 
forget  her. 

"  So  now  they  will  be  here  for  sure,  and 
there  can  be  no  more  delay ! "  was  Jake's  first 
distinct  thought.  "  Poor  father  ! "  he  inward- 
ly exclaimed  the  next  moment,  with  deep 
anguish.  His  native  home  came  back  to 


62  YEKL- 

him  with  a  vividness  which  it  had  not  had 
in  his  mind  for  a  long  time. 

"  Was  he  an  old  man  ?  "  the  scribe  quer- 
ied sympathetically. 

"About  seventy,"  Jake  answered,  burst- 
ing into  tears. 

"  Seventy  ?  Then  he  had  lived  to  a  good 
old  age.  May  no  one  depart  younger,"  the 
old  man  observed,  by  way  of  "  consoling  the 
bereaved." 

As  Jake's  tears  instantly  ran  dry  he  fell 
to  wringing  his  hands  and  moaning. 

"  Good-night ! "  he  presently  said,  taking 
leave.  "  I'll  see  you  to-morrow,  if  God  be 
pleased." 

"  Good-night ! "  the  scribe  returned  with 
heartfelt  condolence. 

As  he  was  directing  his  steps  to  his  lodg- 
ings Jake  wondered  why  he  did  not  weep. 
He  felt  that  this  was  the  proper  thing  for  a 
man  in  his  situation  to  do,  and  he  endeav- 
oured to  inspire  himself  with  emotions  be- 
fitting the  occasion.  But  his  thoughts  teas- 
ingly  gambolled  about  among  the  people 


IN  THE  GRIP  OF   HIS   PAST.  63 

and  things  of  the  street  By-and-bye,  how- 
ever, he  became  sensible  of  his  mental  eye 
being  fixed  upon  the  big  fleshy  mole  on  his 
father's  scantily  bearded  face.  He  recalled 
the  old  man's  carriage,  the  melancholy  nod 
of  his  head,  his  deep  sigh  upon  taking  snuff 
from  the  time-honoured  birch  bark  which 
Jake  had  known  as  long  as  himself;  and  his 
heart  writhed  with  pity  and  with  the  acutest 
pangs  of  homesickness.  "  And  it  was  even- 
ing and  it  was  morning,  the  sixth  day.  And 
the  heavens  and  the  earth  were  finished." 
As  the  Hebrew  words  of  the  Sanctification 
of  the  Sabbath  resounded  in  Jake's  ears,  in 
his  father's  senile  treble,  he  could  see  his 
gaunt  figure  swaying  over  a  pair  of  Sabbath 
loaves.  It  is  Friday  night.  The  little  room, 
made  tidy  for  the  day  of  rest  and  faintly  il- 
luminated by  the  mysterious  light  of  two 
tallow  candles  rising  from  freshly  burnished 
candlesticks,  is  pervaded  by  a  benign,  re- 
poseful warmth  and  a  general  air  of  peace 
and  solemnity.  There,  seated  by  the  side  of 
the  head  of  the  little  family  and  within  easy 


64  YEKL- 

reach  of  the  huge  brick  oven,  is  his  old 
mother,  flushed  with  fatigue,  and  with  an  ef- 
fort keeping  her  drowsy  eyes  open  to  attend, 
with  a  devout  mien,  her  husband's  prayer. 
Opposite  to  her,  by  the  window,  is  Yekl,  the 
present  Jake,  awaiting  his  turn  to  chant  the 
same  words  in  the  holy  tongue,  and  impa- 
tiently thinking  of  the  repast  to  come  after 
it.  Besides  the  three  of  them  there  is  no 
one  else  in  the  chamber,  for  Jake  visioned 
the  fascinating  scene  as  he  had  known  it  for 
almost  twenty  years,  and  not  as  it  had  ap- 
peared during  the  short  period  since  the 
family  had  been  joined  by  Gitl  and  subse- 
quently by  Yossele*. 

Suddenly  he  felt  himself  a  child,  the  only 
and  pampered  son  of  a  doting  mother.  He 
was  overcome  with  a  heart-wringing  con- 
sciousness of  being  an  orphan,  and  his  soul 
was  filled  with  a  keen  sense  of  desolation 
and  self-pity.  And  thereupon  everything 
around  him — the  rows  of  gigantic  tenement 
houses,  the  hum  and  buzz  of  the  scurrying 
pedestrians,  the  jingling  horse  cars— all  sud- 


IN   THE  GRIP  OF   HIS  PAST.  65 

denly  grew  alien  and  incomprehensible  to 
Jake.  Ah,  if  he  could  return  to  his  old 
home  and  old  days,  and  have  his  father  recite 
Sanctification  again,  and  sit  by  his  side,  op- 
posite to  mother,  and  receive  from  her  hand 
a  plate  of  reeking  tzimess*  as  of  yore ! 
Poor  mother!  He  will  not  forget  her — 
But  what  is  the  Italian  playing  on  that  or- 
gan, anyhow  ?  Ah,  it  is  the  new  waltz ! 
By  the  way,  this  is  Monday  and  they  are 
dancing  at  Joe's  now  and  he  is  not  there. 
"  I  shall  not  go  there  to-night,  nor  any  other 
night,"  he  commiserated  himself,  his  reveries 
for  the  first  time  since  he  had  left  the  Pitt 
Street  cigarette  stand  passing  to  his  wife  and  I  ^' 
child.  Her  image  now  stood  out  in  high  I  ^ 
relief  with  the  multitudinous  noisy  scene  at  »*?  * 

H  \         V 

Joe's   academy  for  a   discordant,  disquieting  \c\  <r\ 

r    i 

background,  amid  which  there  vaguely  de- 
fined itself  the  reproachful   saintlike  visage  ^^ 
of  the  deceased.     "  I  will  begin  a  new  life ! "  L. 
he  vowed  to  himself.  < 

*  A  kind  of  dessert  made  of  carrots  or  turnips. 


66  YEKL. 

He  strove  to  remember  the  child's  fea- 
tures, but  could  only  muster  the  faintest  rec- 
ollection— scarcely  anything  beyond  a  gen- 
eral symbol — a  red  little  thing  smiling,  as  he, 
Jake,  tickles  it  under  its  tiny  chin.  Yet 
Jake's  finger  at  this  moment  seemed  to  feel 
the  soft  touch  of  that  little  chin,  and  it  sent 
through  him  a  thrill  of  fatherly  affection  to 
which  he  had  long  been  a  stranger.  Gitl,  on 
the  other  hand,  loomed  up  in  all  the  individ- 
ual sweetness  of  her  rustic  face.  He  beheld 
her  kindly  mouth  opening  wide — rather  too 
wide,  but  all  the  lovelier  for  it — as  she 
spoke ;  her  prominent  red  gums,  her  little 
black  eyes.  He  could  distinctly  hear  her 
voice  with  her  peculiar  lisp,  as  one  summer 
morning  she  had  burst  into  the  house  and, 
clapping  her  hands  in  despair,  she  had  cried, 
"  A  weeping  to  me !  The  yellow  rooster  is 
gone ! "  or,  as  coming  into  the  smithy  she 
would  say :  "  Father-in-law,  mother-in-law 
calls  you  to  dinner.  Hurry  up,  Yekl,  dinner 
is  ready."  And  although  this  was  all  he  could 
recall  her  saying,  Jake  thought  himself  re- 


IN   THE   GRIP  OF   HIS  PAST.  67 

tentive  of  every  word  she  had  ever  uttered 
in  his  presence.  His  heart  went  out  to  Gitl 
and  her  environment,  and  he  was  seized  with 
a  yearning  tenderness  that  made  him  feel 
like  crying.  "  I  would  not  exchange  her  lit- 
tle finger  for  all  the  American  ladas?  he  so- 
liloquized, comparing  Gitl  in  his  mind  with 
the  dancing-school  girls  of  his  circle.  It 
now  filled  him  with  disgust  to  think  of  the 
morals  of  some  of  them,  although  it  was 
from  his  own  sinful  experience  that  he  knew 
them  to  be  of  a  rather  loose  character. 

He  reached    his    lodgings   in   a   devout 
mood,  and  before  going  to  bed  he  was  about    ^ 
to  say  his  prayers.      Not  having  said  them    ^ 
for  nearly  three  years,  however,  he  found,  to    „•££ 
his  dismay,  that  he  could  no  longer  do  it  by     \. 
heart.      His    landlady    had    a    prayer-book,        V 
but,  unfortunately,  she  kept  it  locked  in  the   <^ 
bureau,  and    she  was    now   asleep,   as   was  * 
everybody  else  in  the  house.     Jake  reluc- 
tantly undressed   and  went  to  bed   on  the 
kitchen  lounge,  where  he  usually  slept. 

When  a  boy  his  mother  had  taught  him 


68  YEKL. 

to  believe  that  to  go  to  sleep  at  night  with- 
out having  recited  the  bed  prayer  rendered 
one  liable  to  be  visited  and  choked  in  bed 
by  some  ghost.  Later,  when  he  had  grown 
up,  and  yet  before  he  had  left  his  birthplace, 
he  had  come  to  set  down  this  earnest  belief 
of  his  good  old  mother  as  a  piece  of  woman- 
ish superstition,  while  since  he  had  settled 
in  America  he  had  hardly  ever  had  an  occa- 
sion to  so  much  as  think  of  bed  prayers. 
Nevertheless,  as  he  now  lay  vaguely  listen- 
ing to  the  weird  ticking  of  the  clock  on  the 
mantelpiece  over  the  stove,  and  at  the  same 
time  desultorily  brooding  upon  his  father's 
death,  the  old  belief  suddenly  uprose  in  his 
mind  and  filled  him  with  mortal  terror.  He 
tried  to  persuade  himself  that  it  was  a  silly 
notion  worthy  of  womenfolk,  and  even  af- 
fected to  laugh  at  it  audibly.  But  all  in 
vain.  "  Cho-king  !  Cho-king  !  Cho-king  !  " 
went  the  clock,  and  the  form  of  a  man  in 
white  burial  clothes  never  ceased  gleaming 
in  his  face.  He  resolutely  turned  to  the 
wall,  and,  pulling  the  blanket  over  his  head, 


IN   THE  GRIP  OF  HIS  PAST.  6g 

he  huddled  himself  snugly  up  for  instantane- 
ous sleep.  But  presently  he  felt  the  cold 
grip  of  a  pair  of  hands  about  his  throat,  and 
he  even  mentally  stuck  out  his  tongue,  as 
one  does  while  being  strangled. 

With  a  fast-beating  heart  Jake  finally 
jumped  off  the  lounge,  and  gently  knocked 
at  the  door  of  his  landlady's  bedroom. 

"  Eshcoosh  me,  mishcsh,  be  so  kind  as  to 
lend  me  your  prayer-book.  I  want  to  say 
the  night  prayer,"  he  addressed  her  implor- 
ingly. 

The  old  woman  took  it  for  a  cruel  prac- 
tical joke,  and  flew  into  a  passion. 

"  Are  you  crazy  or  drunk  ?  A  nice  time 
to  make  fun  ! " 

And  it  was  not  until  he  had  said  with 
suppliant  vehemence,  "  May  I  as  surely  be 
alive  as  my  father  is  dead ! "  and  she  had  sub- 
jected him  to  a  cross-examination,  that  she 
expressed  sympathy  and  went  to  produce 
the  keys. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE    MEETING. 

A  FEW  weeks  later,  on  a  Saturday  morn- 
ing, Jake,  with  an  unfolded  telegram  in  his 
hand,  stood  in  front  of  one  of  the  desks  at 
the  Immigration  Bureau  of  Ellis  Island. 
He  was  freshly  shaven  and  clipped,  smartly 
dressed  in  his  best  clothes  and  ball  shoes, 
and,  in  spite  of  the  sickly  expression 
of  shamefacedness  and  anxiety  which  dis- 
torted his  features,  he  looked  younger  than 
usual. 

All  the  way  to  the  island  he  had  been  in 
a  flurry  of  joyous  anticipation.  The  pros- 
pect of  meeting  his  dear  wife  and  child,  and, 
incidentally,  of  showing  off  his  swell  attire 
to  her,  had  thrown  him  into  a  fever  of  impa- 


THE   MEETING.  ji 

Jbience.  But  on  entering  the  big  shed  he 
had  caught  a  distant  glimpse  of  Gitl  and 
Yossele"  through  the  railing  separating  the 
detained  immigrants  from  their  visitors,  and 
his  heart  had  sunk  at  the  sight  of  his  wife's 
uncouth  and /un-American)  appearance.  She 
was  slovenly  dressed  in  a  brown  jacket  and 
skirt  of  grotesque  cut,  and  her  hair  was  con- 
cealfid-under  a  voluminous_wjg  of  apitch- 
Mack  hue.  This  she  had  put  on  just  before 
leaving  the  steamer,  both  "  in  honour  of  the 
Sabbath  "  and  by  way  of  sprucing  herself  up 
for  the  great  event.  Since  Yekl  had  left 
home  she  had  gained  considerably  in  the 
measurement  of  her  waist.  The  wig,  how- 
ever, made  her  seem  stouter  and  as  though 
shorter  than  she  would  have  appeared  with- 
out it.  It  also  added  at  least_jive  years  to 
icr  looks.  But  she  was  aware  neither  of 


his  nor  of  the  fact  that  in  New  York  even 
i  Jewess  of  her  station  and  orthodox  breed- 

ng  is  accustomed  to  blink  at  the  wickedness 
of  displaying  her  natural  hair,  and  that  none 
but  an  elderly  matron  may  wear  a  wig  with- 


72  YEKL. 

out  being  the  occasional  target  for  snow- 
balls or  stones.  Shejwas  naturally  dark  of 
complexion,  and  the  nine  or  ten  days_spe.nt 
at  sea  had  covered  her  face  with  a  dec]) 
bronze,  which  combined  with  her  prominent 
cheek  bones,  inky  little  eyes,  and,  above  all, 
the  smooth  black  wig,  to  lend  her  resem- 
blance to  a  squaw. 

Jake  had  no  sooner  caught  sight  of  her 
than  he  had  averted  his  face,  as  if  loth  to  rest 
his  eyes  on  her,  in  the  presence  of  the  surg- 
ing crowd  around  him,  before  it  was  inevita- 
ble. He  dared  not  even  survey  that  crowd 
to  see  whether  it  contained  any  acquaintance 
of  his,  and  he  vaguely  wished  that  her  release 
were  delayed  indefinitely. 

Presently  the  officer  behind  the  desk 
took  the  telegram  from  him,  and  in  another 
little  while  Gitl,  hugging  Yossele"  with  one 
arm  and  a  bulging  parcel  with  the  other, 
emerged  from  a  side  door. 

"Yekl!"  she  screamed  out  in  a  piteous 
high  key,  as  if  crying  for  mercy. 

"  Dot'sh  alia  right ! "  he  returned  in  Eng- 


THE  MEETING.  73 

lish,  with  a  wan  smile  and  unconscious  of 
what  he  was  saying.  His  wandering  eyes 
and  dazed  mind  were  striving  to  fix  them- 
selves upon  the  stern  functionary  and  the 
questions  he  bethought  himself  of  asking  be- 
fore finally  releasing  his  prisoners.  The  con- 
trast between  Gitl  and  Jake  was  so  striking 
that  the  officer  wanted  to  make  sure — partly 
'as  a  matter  of  official  duty  and  partly  for  the 
fun  of  the  thing — that  the  two  were  actually 
man  and  wife. 

"  Oi  a  lamentation  upon  me  !  He  shaves 
his  beard ! "  Gitl  ejaculated  to  herself  as  she 
scrutinized  her  husband.  "  Yossele",  look  ! 
Here  is  tatt  /  " 

But  Yossele"  did  not  care  to  look  at  tate". 
Instead,  he  turned  his  frightened  little  eyes — 
precise  copies  of  Jake's — and  buried  them  in 
his  mother's  cheek. 

When  Gitl  was  finally  discharged  she 
made  to  fling  herself  on  Jake.  But  he 
checked  her  by  seizing  both  loads  from  her 
arms.  He  started  for  a  distant  and  deserted 
corner  of  the  room,  bidding  her  follow.  For 


74  YEKL- 

a  moment  the  boy  looked  stunned,  then  he 
burst  out  crying  and  fell  to  kicking  his  fa- 
ther's chest  with  might  and  main,  his  red- 
dened little  face  appealingly  turned  to  Gitl. 
Jake  continuing  his  way  tried  to  kiss  his  son 
into  toleration,  but  the  little  fellow  proved 
too  nimble  for  him.  It  was  in  vain  that 
Gitl,  scurrying  behind,  kept  expostulating 
with  Yossele* :  "  Why,  it  is  tate" ! "  Tat£  was 
forced  to  capitulate  before  the  march  was 
brought  to  its  end. 

At  length,  when  the  secluded  corner  had 
been  reached,  and  Jake  and  Gitl  had  set 
down  their  burdens,  husband  and  wife  flew 
into  mutual  embrace  and  fell  to  kissing  each 
other.  The  performance  had  an  effect  of 
something  done  to  order,  which,  it  must  be 
owned,  was  far  from  being  belied  by  the 
state  of  their  minds  at  the  moment.  Their 
kisses  imparted  the  taste  of  mutual  estrange- 
ment to  both.  In  Jake's  case  the  sensation 
was  quickened  by  the  strong  steerage  odours 
which  were  emitted  by  Gitl's  person,  and  he 
involuntarily  recoiled. 


THE  MEETING.  75 

(j^You  look  like  ^poritz?  *  she  said  shyly.  } 
"  How  are  you  ?     How  is  mother  ?  " 
"How    should    she    be?     So,    so.     She 
sends  you  her  love,"  Gitl  mumbled  out. 
"  How  long  was  father  ill  ?  " 
"  Maybe  a  month.      He   cost  us  health 
enough." 

He  proceeded  to  make  advances  to  Yos- 
sele",  she  appealing  to  the  child  in  his  behalf. 
f  For  a  moment  the  sight  of  her,  as  they  were 
both  crouching  before  the  boy,  precipitated 
a  wave  of  thrilling  memories  on  Jake  and 
made  him  feel  in  his  old  environment.    Pres- 
ently, however,  the  illusion  took  wing  and 
x  here  he  was,  JakeJhe_Yankee,  with  this  bon- 
'  netless,  wigged,  dowdyish  little  greenhorn  by 
his  side!    That  she  was  his  wife,  nay,  that 
he  was  a  mafried  man  at  allf  seemed  incredi- 
ble Js»  him.     The  sturdy,  thriving  urchin  had 
at  first  inspired  him  with  pride;  but  as  he 
now  cast  another  side  glance  at  Gitl's  wig  he 
lost  all  interest  in  him,  and  began  to  regard 

*  Yiddish  for  nobleman. 


76  YEKL. 

him,  together  with  his  mother,  as  one  great 
obstacle  dropped  from  heaven,  as  it  were,  in 
'his  way.^ 

Gitl,  on  her  part,  was  overcome  with  a 
feeling  akin  to  awe.  She,  too,  could  not  get 
herself  to  realize  that  this  stylish  young  man 
— shaved  and  dressed  as  in  Povodye  is  only 
some  young  nobleman — was  Yekl,  her  own 
Yekl,  who  had  all  these  three  years  never 
been  absent  from  her  mind.  And  while  she 
was  once  more  examining  Jake's  blue  diag- 
onal cutaway,  glossy  stand-up  collar,  the 
white  four-in-hand  necktie,  coquettishly 
tucked  away  in  the  bosom  of  his  starched 
shirt,  and,  above  all,  his  patent  leather  shoes, 
she  was  at  the  same  time  mentally  scanning 
-the  Yekl  of  three  years  before.  The  latter 
alone  was  hers,  and  she  felt  like  crying  to 
the  image  to  come  back  to  her  and  let  her 
be  his  wife. 

Presently,  when  they  had  got  up  and 
Jake  was  plying  her  with  perfunctory  ques- 
tions, she  chanced  to  recognise  a  certain 
movement  of  his  upper  lip— an  old  trick  of 


THE   MEETING.  77 

his.  It  was  as  if  she  had  suddenly  discovered 
her  own  Yekl  in  an  apparent  stranger,  and, 
with  another  pitiful  outcry,  she  fell  on  his 
breast. 

"  Don't ! "  he  said,  with  patient  gentleness, 
pushing  away  her  arms.  "  Here  everything 
is  so  different." 

She  coloured  deeply. 

"  They  don't  wear  wigs  here,"  he  ventured 
to  add. 

"  What  then  ?  "  she  asked,  perplexedly. 

"  You  will  see.  It  is  quite  another 
world." 

"  Shall  I  take  it  off,  then  ?  I  have  a  nice 
Saturday  kerchief,"  she  faltered.  "It  is  of 
silk — I  bought  it  at  Kalmen's  for  a  bargain. 
It  is  still  brand  new." 

"  Here  one  does  not  wear  even  a  ker- 
chief." 

"  How  then  ?  Do  they  go  about  with 
their  own  hair  ?  "  she  queried  in  ill-disguised 
bewilderment. 

"  Veil,  alia  right>  put  it  on,  quick ! " 

As  she  set  about  undoing  her  parcel,  she 


7g  YEKL. 

bade  him  face  about  and  -screen  her,  so  that 
neither  he  nor  any  stranger  could  see  her 
bareheaded  while  she  was  replacing  the  wig 
by  the  kerchief.  He  obeyed.  All  the  while 
the  operation  lasted  he  stood  with  his  gaze 
on  the  floor,  gnashing  his  teeth  with  disgust 
and  shame,  or  hissing  some  Bowery  oath. 

"Is  this  better ? "  7he^asked  bashfully, 
when  her  hair  and  part  of  her  forehead  were 
hidden  under  a  kerchief  of  flaming  blue  and 
yellow,  whose  end  dangled  down  her  back. 

The  kerchief  had  a  rejuvenating  effect. 
But  Jake  thought  that  it  made  her  look  like 
x  an  Italian  woman  of  Mulberry  Street  on 
Sunday. 

"Alia  right,  leave  it  be  for  the  present," 
he  said  in  despair,  reflecting  that  the  wig 
would  have  been  the  lesser  evil  of  the  two. 

When  they  reached  the  city  Gitl  was 
shocked  to  see  him  lead  the  way  to  a  horse 
car. 

"  Oi  woe  is  me  !  Why,  it  is  Sabbath  ! " 
she  gasped. 


THE   MEETING.  79 

He  irately  essayed  to  explain  that  a  car, 
being  an  uncommon  sort  of  vehicle,  riding 
in  it  implied  no  violation  of  the  holy  day. 
But  this  she  sturdily  met  by  reference  to 
railroads.  Besides,  she  had  seen  horse  cars 
while  stopping  in  Hamburg,  and  knew  that 
no  orthodox  Jew  would  use  them  on  the 
seventh  day.  At  length  Jake,  losing  all  self- 
control,  fiercely  commanded  her  not  to  make 
him  the  laughing-stock  of  the  people  on  the 
street  and  to  get  in  without  further  ado.  As 
to  the  sin  of  the  matter  he  was  willing  to 
take  it  all  upon  himself.  Completely  dis- 
mayed by  his  stern  manner,  amid  the  strange, 
uproarious,  forbidding  surroundings,  Gitl 
yielded. 

As  the  horses  started  she  uttered  a 
groan  of  consternation  and  remained  look- 
ing aghast  and  with  a  violently  throbbing 
heart.  If  she  had  been  a  culprit  on  the  way 
to  the  gallows  she  could  not  have  been  more 
terrified  than  she  was  now  at  this  her  first 
ride  on  the  day  of  rest. 

The  conductor  came  up  for  their   fares. 


80  YEKL. 

Jake  handed  him  a  ten-cent  piece,  and  rais- 
ing two  fingers,  he  roared  out :  "  Two  !  He 
ain'  no  maur  as  tree  years,  de  liddle  feller ! " 
And  so  great  was  the  impression  which  his 
dashing  manner  and  his  English  produced 
on  Gitl,  that  for  some  time  it  relieved  her 
mind  and  she  even  forgot  to  be  shocked  by 
the  sight  of  her  husband  handling  coin  on 
the  Sabbath. 

Having  thus  paraded  himself  before  his 
wife,  Jake  all  at  once  grew  kindly  disposed 
toward  her. 

"  You  must  be  hungry  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Not  at  all !  Where  do  you  eat  your 
varimess  ?  "  * 

|        "  Don't     say     varimess,"     he     corrected 
her  complaisantly ;    "  here   it   is   called  din- 
I  ner? 

"Dinner?^  And  what  if  one  becomes 
fatter  ?  "  she  confusedly  ventured  an  irresisti- 
ble pun. 

*  Yiddish  for  dinner, 
f  Yiddish  for  thinner. 


THE   MEETING.  8 1 

This  was  the  way  in  which  Gitl  came  to 
receive  her  first  lesson  in  the  five  or  six 
score  English  words  and  phrases  which  the 
omnivorous  Jewish  jargon  has  absorbed  in 
the  Ghettos  of  English-speaking  countries. 


CHAPTER   V. 

A    PATERFAMILIAS. 

IT  was  early  in  the  afternoon  of  Gitl's 
second  Wednesday  in  the  New  World. 
Jake,  Bernstein  and  Charley,  their  two 
boarders,  were  at  work.  Yossele*  was  sound 
asleep  in  the  lodgers'  double  bed,  in  the 
smallest  of  the  three  tiny  rooms  which  the 
family  rented  on  the  second  floor  of  one  of 
a  row  of  brand-new  tenement  houses.  Gitl 
was  by  herself  in  the  little  front  room  which 
served  the  quadruple  purpose  of  kitchen,  din- 
ing room,  sitting  room,  and  parlour.  She 
wore  a  skirt  and  a  loose  jacket  of  white 
Russian  calico,  decorated  with  huge  gay  fig- 
ures, and  her  dark  hair  was  only  half  covered 
by  a  bandana  of  red  and  yellow.  This  was 


A  PATERFAMILIAS.  83 

Gitl's  compromise  between  her  conscience 
and  her  husband.  She  panted  to  yield  to 
Jake's  demands  completely,  but  could  not 
nerve  herself  up  to  going  about  "  in  her  own 
hair,  like  a  Gentile  woman."  Even  the  ex- 
postulations of  Mrs.  Kavarsky — the  childless 
middle-aged  woman  who  occupied  with  her 
husband  the  three  rooms  across  the  narrow 
hallway — failed  to  prevail  upon  her.  Never- 
theless Jake,  succumbing  to  Mrs.  Kavarsky 's 
annoying  solicitations,  had  bought  his  wife  a 
cheap  high-crowned  hat,  utterly  unfit  to  be 
worn  over  her  voluminous  wig,  and  even  a 
corset  Gitl  could  not  be  coaxed  into  ac- 
companying them  to  the  store ;  but  the  elo- 
quent neighbour  had  persuaded  Jake  that 
her  presence  at  the  transaction  was  not  in- 
dispensable after  all 

"  Leave  it  to  me,"  she  said ;  "  I  know 
what  will  become  her  and  what  won't  111 
get  her  a  hat  that  will  make  a  Fifth  Avenue 
lady  of  her,  and  you  shall  see  if  she  does 
not  give  ia  If  she  is  then  not  satetzfiet 
to  go  with  her  own  hair,  veil/"  What 


84  YEKL. 

then  would  take  place  Mrs.  Kavarsky  left 
unsaid. 

The  hat  and  the  corset  had  been  lying  in 
the  house  now  three  days,  and  the  neigh- 
bour's predictions  had  not  yet  come  true, 
save  for  Gitl's  prying  once  or  twice  into  the 
pasteboard  boxes  in  which  those  articles  lay, 
otherwise  unmolested,  on  the  shelf  over  her 
bed. 

The  door  was  open.  Gitl  stood  toying 
with  the  knob  of  the  electric  bell,  and  deriv- 
ing much  delight  from  the  way  the  street 
door  latch  kept  clicking  under  her  magic 
touch  two  flights  above.  Finally  she  wea- 
ried of  her  diversion,  and  shutting  the  door 
she  went  to  take  a  look  at  Yossele*.  She 
found  him  fast  asleep,  and,  as  she  was  re- 
tracing her  steps  through  her  own  and  Jake's 
bedroom,  her  eye  fell  upon  the  paper  boxes. 
She  got  up  on  the  edge  of  her  bed  and,  lift- 
ing the  cover  from  the  hatbox,  she  took  a 
prolonged  look  at  its  contents.  All  at  once 
her  face  brightened  up  with  temptation. 
She  went  to  fasten  the  hallway  door  of  the 


A   PATERFAMILIAS.  85 

kitchen  on  its  latch,  and  then  regaining  the 
bedroom  shut  herself  in.  After  a  lapse  of 
some  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  she  re-emerged, 
attired  in  her  brown  holiday  dress  in  which 
she  had  first  confronted  Jake  on  Ellis  Island, 
and  with  the  tall  black  straw  hat  on  her 
head.  Walking  on  tiptoe,  as  though  about 
to  commit  a  crime,  she  crossed  over  to  the 
looking-glass.  Then  she  paused,  her  eyes  on 
the  door,  to  listen  for  possible  footsteps. 
Hearing  none  she  faced  the  glass.  "Quite 
a  panenke\"*  she  thought  to  herself,  all 
aglow  with  excitement,  a  smile,  at  once 
shamefaced  and  beatific,  melting  her  features. 
She  turned  to  the  right,  then  to  the  left,  to 
view  herself  in  profile,  as  she  had  seen  Mrs. 
Kavarsky  do,  and  drew  back  a  step  to  ascer- 
tain the  effect  of  the  corset.  To  tell  the 
truth,  the  corset  proved  utterly  impotent 
against  the  baggy  shapelessness  of  the  Povo- 
dye  garment.  Yet  Gitl  found  it  to  work 
wonders,  and  readily  pardoned  it  for  the  very 

*  A  young  noblewoman. 


86  YEKL. 

uncomfortable  sensation  which  it  caused  her. 
She  viewed  herself  again  and  again,  and  was 
hi  a  flutter  both  of  ecstasy  and  alarm  when 
there  came  a  timid  rap  on  the  door.  Trem- 
bling all  over,  she  scampered  on  tiptoe  back 
into  the  bedroom,  and  after  a  little  she  re- 
turned in  her  calico  dress  and  bandana  ker- 
chie£  The  knock  at  the  door  had  appar- 
ently been  produced  by  some  peddler  or 
beggar,  for  it  was  not  repeated.  Yet  so  vio- 
lent was  Girl's  agitation  that  she  had  to  sit 
down  on  the  haircloth  lounge  for  breath 
and  to  regain  composure. 

"What  is  it  they  call  this?"  she  presently 
asked  herself;  gazing  at  the  bare  boards  of 
the  floor.  "  Floor ! "  she  recalled,  much  to 
her  self-satisfaction.  "And  that?"  she  fur- 
ther examined  herself,  as  she  fixed  her  glance 
on  the  ceiling.  This  time  the  answer  was  j 
slow  hi  coming,  and  her  heart  grew  faint, 
"And  what  was  it  Yekl  called  that  ?  "—trans- 
ferring her  eyes  to  the  window.  "Veen — 
neev— veenda,"  she  at  last  uttered  exultantly. 
The  evening  before  she  had  happened  to  call 


A  PATERFAMILIAS.  87 

it  fentzter,  in  spite  of  Jake's  repeated  cor- 
rections. 

"Can't     you     say    veenda?"     he     had 
growled.     "What   a  peasant    head!     Qthcr 


learn  to  speak  American  skt\!c 


very  fast;  and  she — one  might  tell  her  the 
same  word  eighty  thousand  times,  and  it  is 
nu  used? 

u  Es  is  ofn  veenda  mein  ich?*  she  has- 
tened to  set  herself  right. 

She  blushed  as  she  said  it,  but  at  the  mo- 
ment she  attached  no  importance  to  the 
matter  and  took  no  more  notice  of  it  Now, 
however,  Jake's  tone  of  voice,  as  he  had  re- 
buked her  backwardness  in  picking  up 
American  Yiddish,  came  back  to  her  and 
she  grew  dejected 

She  was  getting  used  to  her  husband,  hi 
whom  her  own  Yckl  and  Jake  J:he  stranger 
were  by  degrees  merging  themselves  into 
one  undivided  being.  When  the  hour  of  his 
coming  from  work  drew  near  she  would 

*  It  is  on  the  window,  I  meant  to  say. 


88  YEKL. 

every  little  while  consult  the  clock  and  be- 
come impatient  with  the  slow  progress  of  its 
hands ;  although  mixed  with  this  impatience 
there  was  a  feeling  of  apprehension  lest  the 
supper,  prepared  as  it  was  under  culinary 
conditions  entirely  new  to  her,  should  fail  to 
please  Jake  and  the  boarders.  She  had  even 
become  accustomed  to  address  her  husband 
as  Jake  without  reddening  in  the  face ;  and, 
what  is  more,  was  getting  to  tolerate  herself 
being  called  by  him  Goitie  (Gertie'} — a  word 
phonetically  akin  to  Yiddish  for  Gentile. 
For  the  rest  she  was  too  inexperienced  and 
too  simple-hearted  naturally  to  comment 
upon  his  manner  toward  her.  She  had  not 
altogether  overcome  her  awe  of  him,  but  as 
he  showed  her  occasional  marks  of  kindness 
she  was  upon  the  whole  rather  content  with 
her  new  situation.  Now,  however,  as  she 
thus  sat  in  solitude,  with  his  harsh  voice  ring- 
ing in  her  ears  and  his  icy  look  before  her,  a 
feeling  of  suspicion  darkened  her  soul.  She 
recalled  other  scenes  where  he  had  looked 
and  spoken  as  he  had  done  the  night  before. 


A  PATERFAMILIAS.  89 

"He  must  hate  me!  A  pain  upon  me!" 
she  concluded  with  a  fallen  heart.  She  won- 
dered whether  his  demeanour  toward  her 
was  like  that  of  other  people  who  hated 
their  wives.  She  remembered  a  \yoman  of 
her  native  village  who  was  known  to  be  thus 
afflicted,  and  she  dropped  her  head  in  a  fit 
of  despair.  At  one  moment  she  took  a  firm 
resolve  to  pluck  up  courage  and  cast  away 
the  kerchief  and  the  wig  ;  but  at  the  next 
she  reflected  that  God  would  be  sure  to  pun- 
ish her  for  the  terrible  sin,  so  that  instead  of 
winning  Jake's  love  the  change  would  in- 
crease his  hatred  for  her.  It  flashed  upon 
her  mind  to  call  upon  some  "  good  Jew  "  to 
pray  for  the  return  of  his  favour,  or  to  seek 
some  old  Polish  beggar  woman  who  could 
prescribe  a  love  potion.  But  then,  alas ! 
who  knows  whether  there  are  in  this  terrible 
America  any  good  Jews  or  be"ggar  women 
with  love  poTions  ^at  all !  Better  she  had 
never  known  this  "  black  year "  of  a  coun- 
try !  Here  everybody  says  she  is  green. 
What  an  ugly  word  to  apply  to  people! 


90  YEKL. 

She  had  never  been  green  at  home,  and  here 
she  had  suddenly  become  so.  What  do  they 
mean  by  it,  anyhow?  Verily,  one  might 
turn  green  and  yellow  and  gray  while  young 
in  such  a  dreadful  place.  Her  heart  was 

'   wrung  with  the  most  excruciating  pangs  of 
homesickness.     And  as  she  thus  sat  brood- 

v,^ng  and  listlessly  surveying  her  new  sur- 
^roundings — the  iron  stove,  the  stationary 
washtubs,  the  window  opening  vertically, 
the  fire  escape,  the  yellowish  broom  with  its 
painted  handle — things  which  she  had  never 
dreamed  of  at  her  birthplace — these  objects 
seemed  to  stare  at  her  haughtily  and  inspired 
her  with  fright.  Even  the  burnished  cup  of 
the  electric  bell  knob  looked  contemptuous- 
ly and  seemed  to  call  her  "  Greenhorn ! 
greenhorn  ! "  "  Lord  of  the  world  !  Where 
am  I  ? "  she  whispered  with  tears  in  her 
voice. 

The  dreary  solitude  terrified  her,  and  she 
instinctively  rose  to  take  refuge  at  Yossele's 
bedside.  As  she  got  up,  a  vague  doubt  came 
over  her  whether  she  should  find  there  her 


A   PATERFAMILIAS.  91 

child  at  all.  But  Yossele"  was  found  safe 
and  sound  enough.  He  was  rubbing  his 
eyes  and  announcing  the  advent  of  his  fa- 
mous appetite.  She  seized  him  in  her  arms 
and  covered  his  warm  cheeks  with  fervent 
kisses  which  did  her  aching  heart  good. 
And  by-and-bye,  as  she  admiringly  watched 
the  boy  making  savage  inroads  into  a  gener- 
ous slice  of  rye  bread,  she  thought  of  Jake's 
affection  for  the  child ;  whereupon  things  be- 
gan to  assume  a  brighter  aspect,  and  she 
presently  set  about  preparing  supper  with  a 
lighter  heart,  although  her  countenance  for 
some  time  retained  its  mournful  woe-be- 
gone  expression. 

Meanwhile  Jake  sat  at  his  machine  mer- 
rily pushing  away  at  a  cloak  and  singing  to 
it  some  of  the  popular  American  songs  of 
the  day. 

The  sensation  caused  by  the  arrival  of 
his  wife  and  child  had  nearly  blown  over. 
Peltner's  dancing  school  he  had  not  visited 
since  a  week  or  two  previous  to  Gitl's  land- 


92  YEKL. 

ing.  As  to  the  scene  which  had  greeted 
him  in  the  shop  after  the  stirring  news  had 
first  reached  it,  he  had  faced  it  out  with 
much  more  courage  and  got  over  it  with 
much  less  difficulty  than  he  had  anticipated. 
/"  Did  I  ever  tell  you  I  was  a  tzingle 
man  ? "  he  laughingly  defended  himself, 
though  blushing  crimson,  against  his  shop- 
mates'  taunts.  "  And  am  I  obliged  to  give 
you  a  report  whether  my  wife  has  come  or 
not  ?  You  are  not  worth  mentioning  her 

|        V  «~T*»~.,,.  ~n**a*ll*^.**v~*>          <=> 

name  to,  any  hoy" 

The  boss  then  suggested  that  Jake  cele- 
brate the  event  with  two  pints  of  beer,  the 
motion  being  seconded  by  the  presser,  who 
volunteered  to  fetch  the  beverage.  Jake 
obeyed  with  alacrity,  and  if  there  had  still 
lingered  any  trace  of  awkwardness  in  his  po- 
sition it  was  soon  washed  away  by  the  foam- 
ing liquid. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Fanny's  embarrass- 
ment was  much  greater  than  Jake's.  The 
stupefying  news  was  broken  to  her  on  the 
very  day  of  Gitl's  arrival.  After  passing  a 


A  PATERFAMILIAS.  93 

sleepless  night  she  felt  that  she  could  not 
bring  herself  to  face  Jake  in  the  presence  of 
her  other  shopmates,  to  whom  her  feelings 
for  him  were  an  open  secret.  As  luck  would 
have  it,  it  was  Sunday,  the  beginning  of  a 
new  working  week  in  the  metropolitan 
Ghetto,  and  she  went  to  look  for  a  job  in 
another  place. 

Jake  at  once  congratulated  himself  upon 
her  absence  and  missed  her.  But  then  he 
equally  missed  the  company  of  Mamie  and 
of  all  the  other  dancing-school  girls,  whose 
society  and  attentions  now  more  than  ever 
seemed  to  him  necessities  of  his  life.  They 
haunted  his  mind  day  and  night ;  he  almost 
never  beheld  them  in  his  imagination  except 
as  clustering  together  with  his  fellow-cava- 
liers and  making  merry  over  him  and  his 
wife ;  and  the  vision  pierced  his  heart  with 
shame  and  jealousy.  All  his  achievements 
seemed  wiped  out  by  a  sudden  stroke  of  ill 
fate.'  He  thought  himself  a  martyr,  an  inno- 
cent exile  from  a  world  to  which  he  ber^ 
longed  by  right ;  and  he  frequently  felt  the 


94  YEKL. 

sobs  of  self-pity  mounting  to  his  throat. 
For  several  minutes  at  a  time,  while  kicking 
at  his  treadle,  he  would  see,  reddening  before 
him,  Gitl's  bandana  kerchief  and  her  promi- 
nent gums,  or  hear  an  un-American  piece  of 
Yiddish  pronounced  with  Gitl's  peculiar  lisp 
— that  veryTisp,  which  three  years  ago  he 
used  to  mimicfondjy,  but  which  now  grated 
on  his  nerves  and  was  apt  to  make  his  face 
itwitcITwith  sheer  disgust,  insomuch  that  he 
often  found  a  vicious  relief  in  mocking  that 
lisp  of  hers  audibly  over  his  work.  But  can 
it  be  that  he  is  doomed  for  life  ?  No  !  no  ! 
he  would  revolt,  conscious  at  the  same  time 
Athat  there  was  really  no  escape.  "  Ah,  may 
the  be  killed,the  horrid  greenhorn ! "  he 
would  gasp  to  himself  in  a  paroxysm  of  de- 
spair. And  then  he  would  bewail  his  lost 
youth,  and  curse  all  ^.ussiajor_his  premature 
marriage.  Presently,  however,  he  would  re- 
call the  plump,  spunky  face  of  his  son  who 
bore  such  close  resemblance  to  himself,  to 
whom  he  was  growing  more  strongly  at- 
tached every  day,  and  who  was  getting  to 


A  PATERFAMILIAS. 


95 


prefer  his  company  to  his  mother's ;  and 
thereupon  his  heart  would  soften  toward 
Gitl,  and  he  would  gradually  feel  the  qualms 
of  pity  and  remorse,  and  make  a  vow  to 
treat  her  kindly.  "  Never  min',"  he  would  at 
such  instances  say  in  his  heart,  "  she  will 
oyshgreen*  herself  and  I  shall  get  used  to 

her.  She  is  a  shight  better  than  all 

the  dancing-school  girls."  And  he  would  in- 
spire himself  with  respect  for  her  spotless 
purity,  and  take  comfort  in  the  fact  of  her 

„  being  a  model  housewife,  undiverted  from 
her  duties  by  any  thoughts  of  balls  or  pic- 
nics. And  despite  a  deeper  consciousness 
which  exposed  his  readiness  to  sacrifice  it  all 
at  any  time,  he  would  work  himself  into  a 

i  jdignified  feeling  as  the  head  of  a  household 
3  md  the  father  of  a  promising  son,  and 

^.  soothe  himself  with  the  additional  consola- 
tion that  sooner  or  later  the  other  fellows  of 
Joe's  academy  would  also  be  married. 

«  *  A  verb  coined  from  the  Yiddish  cys,  out,  and 
the  English  green,  and  signifying  to  cease  being 
green. 


• 

96  YEKL. 

On  the  Wednesday  in  question  Jake  and 
his  shopmates  had  warded  off  a  reduction  of 
wages  by  threatening  a  strike,  and  were  ac- 
cordingly in  high  feather.  And  so  Jake  and 
Bernstein  came  home  in  unusually  good 
spirits.  Little  Joey — for  such  was  Yossel6's 
name  now— with  whom  his~fafKer's  plays 
were  for  the  most  part  of  an  athletic  charac- 
ter, welcomed  Jake  by  a  challenge  for  a  pu- 
gilistic encounter,  and  the  way  he  said 
41  Coom  a  fight ! "  and  held  out  his  little  fists 
so  delighted  Mr.  Podkovnik,  Sr.,  that  upon 
ordering  Gitl  to  serve  supper  he  vouchsafed 
a  fillip  on  the  tip  of  her  nose. 

While  she  was  hurriedly  setting  the  table, 
Jake  took  to  describing  to  Charley  his  em- 
ployer's defeat.  "  You  should  have  seen  how 
he  looked,  the  cockroach  ! "  he  said.  "  He 
became  as  pale  as  the  wall  and  his  teeth 
were  chattering  as  if  he  had  been  shaken 
up  with  fever,  'pon  my  void.  And  how 
quiet  he  became  all  of  a  sudden,  as  if  he 
could  not  count  two  !  One  might  apply  him 
to  an  ulcer,  so  soft  was  he — ha-ha-ha ! "  he 


A  PATERFAMILIAS.  97 

laughed,   looking  to  Bernstein,  who  smiled 
assent. 

At  last  supper  was  announced.  Bern- 
stein donned  his  hat,  and  did  not  sit  down  to 
the  repast  before  he  had  performed  his  ablu- 
tions and  whispered  a  short  prayer.  As  he 
|  did  so  Jake  and  Charley  interchanged  a 
(wink.  As  to  themselves,  they  dispensed 
[with  all  devotional  preliminaries,  and  took 
their  seats  with  uncovered  heads.  Gitl  also 
washed  her  fingers  and  said  the  prayer,  and 
as  she  handed  Yossele"  his  first  slice  of  bread 
she  did  not  release  it  before  he  had  recited 
the  benediction. 

Bernstein,  who,  as  a  rule,  looked  daggers 
at  his  meal,  this  time  received  his  plate  of 
borshtch* — his  favourite  dish — with  a  radi- 
ant face  ;  and  as  he  ate  he  pronounced  k  a 
masterpiece,  and  lavished  compliments  on 
the  artist. 

"  It's  a  long  time  since  I  tasted  such  a 
borshtch !  Simply  a  vivifier !  It  melts  in 

*  A  sour  soup  of  cabbage  and  beets. 


98  YEKL. 

every  limb ! "  he  kept  rhapsodizing,  between 
mouthfuls.  "  It  ought  to  be  sent  to  the  Chi- 
cago Exposition.  The  missess  would  get  a 
medal." 

"  A  regely  European  borshtch  1 "  Charley 
chimed  in.  "  It  is  worth  ten  cents  a  spoon- 
ful, 'pon  mine  vort  /  " 

"  Go  away !  You  are  only  making  fun 
of  me,"  Gitl  declared,  beaming  with  pride. 
"What  is  there  to  be  laughing  at?  I 
make  it  as  well  as  I  can,"  she  added  de- 
murely. 

"  Let  him  who  is  laughing  laugh  with 
teeth,"  jested  Charlie.  "  I  tell  you  it  is  a 

"  The  remainder  of  the  sentence  was 

submerged  in  a  mouthful  of  the  vivifying 
semi-liquid. 

"Alia  right/"  Jake  bethought  himself. 
"  Charge  him  ten  shent  for  each  spoonful. 
Mr.  Bernstein,  you  shall  be  kind  enough  to 
be  the  bookkeeper.  But  if  you  don't  pay, 
Chollie,  I'll  get  out  a  tzommesh  [summons] 
from  court? 

Whereat    the    little    kitchen    rang    with 


A   PATERFAMILIAS.  99 

laughter,  in  which  all  participated  except 
Bernstein.  Even  Joey,  or  Yossele",  joined  in 
the  general  outburst  of  merriment.  Other- 
wise he  was  busily  engaged  cramming 
borshtch  into  his  mouth,  and,  in  passing,  also 
into  his  nose,  with  both  his  plump  hands  for 
a  pair  of  spoons.  From  time  to  time  he 
would  interrupt  operations  to  make  a  wry 
face  and,  blinking  his  eyes,  to  lisp  out  rap- 
turously, "  Sour ! " 

"  Look — may  you  live  long — do  look  ; 
he  is  laughing,  too  ! "  Gitl  called  attention  to 
Yossele"s  bespattered  face.  "To  think  of 
such  a  crumb  having  as  much  sense  as  that!" 
She  was  positive  that  he  appreciated  his  fa- 
ther's witticism,  although  she  herself  under- 
stood it  but  vaguely. 

"  May  he  know  evil  no  better  than  he 
knows  what  he  is  laughing  at,"  Jake  ob- 
jected, with  a  fatherly  mien.  "  What  makes 
you  laugh,  Joey  ?  "  The  boy  had  no  time  to 
spare  for  an  answer,  being  too  busy  licking 
his  emptied  plate.  "  Look  at  the  soldier's 
appetite  he  has,  de  feller !  Joey,  hoy  you 


100  YEKL. 

like  de  borshtch  ?     Alia  right?"  Jake  asked 
in  English. 

"  Awrr-ra  rr-right !"  Joey  pealed  out  his 
sturdy  rustic  r's,  which  he  had  mastered 
shortly  before  taking  leave  of  his  doting 
grandmother. 

>-•)-.  /       "  See  how  well  he  speaks  English  ?"  Jake 
_ said,    facetiously.     "A    shigkt    better 

n  his  mamma,  anyvay." 

Gitl,  who  was  in  the  meantime  serving 
the  meat,  coloured,  but  took  the  remark  in 
good  part. 

"  /  tell  ye  he  is  growing  to  be  Presdent 
'Nited  States,"  Charlie  interposed. 

"  Greenhorn  that  you  are !  A  Presi- 
dent must  be  American  born,"  Jake  ex- 
plained, self-consciously.  "  Ain't  it,  Mr.  Bern- 
stein ?  " 

"  It's  a  pity,  then,  that  he  was  not  born 
in  this  country,"  Bernstein  replied,  his  eye 
envyingly  fixed  now  on  Gitl,  now  at  the 
child,  on  whose  plate  she  was  at  this  mo- 
ment carving  a  piece  of  meat  into  tiny  mor- 
sels. "  Veil,  if  he  cannot  be  a  President  of 


A   PATERFAMILIAS.  IOi 

the  United  States,  he  may  be  one  of  a  syna- 
gogue, so  he  is  a  president." 

"  Don't  you  worry  for  his  sake,"  Gitl  put 
in,  delighted  with  the  attention  her  son  was 
absorbing.  "He  does  not  need  to  be  a  pes- 
dent ;  he  is  growing  to  be  a  rabbi ;  don't  be 
making  fun  of  him."  And  she  turned  her 
head  to  kiss  the  future  rabbi. 

"Who  is  making  fun?"  Bernstein  de- 
murred. "  I  wish  I  had  a  boy  like  him." 

"  Get  married  and  you  will  have  one," 
said  Gitl,  beamingly. 

"Shay,  Mr.  Bernstein,  how  about  your 
shadchenl"*  Jake  queried.  He  gave  a 
laugh,  but  forthwith  checked  it,  remaining 
with  an  embarrassed  grin  on  his  face,  as 
though  anxious  to  swallow  the  question. 
Bernstein  blushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair, 
and  bent  an  irate  glance  on  his  plate,  but 
held  his  peace. 

i         His  reserved  manner,  if  not  his  superior 
1  education,  held   Bernstein's  shopmates  at    a 

*  A  matrimonial  agent. 


102  YEKL. 

respectful  distance  from  him,  and,  as  a  rule, 
rendered  him  proof  against  their  badinage, 
although  behind  his  back  they  would  in- 
dulge, an  occasional  joke  on  his  inferiority 
as  a  workman,  and — while  they  were  at  it 
— on  his  dyspepsia,  his  books,  and  staid, 
methodical  habits.  Recently,  however,  they 
had  got  wind  of  his  clandestine  visits  to  a 
marriage  broker's,  and  the  temptation  to 
chaff  him  on  the  subject  had  proved  resist- 
less, all  the  more  so  because  Bernstein, 
whose  leading  foible  was  his  well-controlled 
vanity,  was  quick  to  take  offence  in  general, 
and  on  this  matter  in  particular.  As  to  Jake, 
he  was  by  no  means  averse  to  having  a 
laugh  at  somebody  else's  expense ;  but  since 
Bernstein  had  become  his  boarder  he  felt 
that  he  could  not  afford  to  wound  his  pride. 
Hence  his  regret  and  anxiety  at  his  allusion 
to  the  matrimonial  agent. 
f  After  supper  Charlie  went  out  for  the 
evening,  while  Bernstein  retired  to  their  lit- 
tle bedroom.  Gitl  busied  herself  with  the 
dishes,  and  Jake  took  to  romping  about  with 


A   PATERFAMILIAS.  Io^ 

Joey  and  had  a  hearty  laugh  with  him.  He 
was  beginning  to  tire  of  the  boy's  company 
and  to  feel  lonesome  generally,  when  there 
was  a  knock  at  the  door.  •  .« 

"  Coom  in  ! "  Gitl  hastened  to  say  some- 
what coquettishly,  flourishing  her  proficiency 
ih  American  manners,  as  she  raised  her  head    •. 
from  the  pot  in  her  hands. 

"  Coom  in  ! "  repeated  Joey. 

The  door  flew  open,  and  in  came  Mamie, 
preceded  by  a  cloud  of  cologne  odours.  She 
was  apparently  dressed  for  some  occasion  of 
state,  for  she  was  powdered  and  straight- 
laced  and  resplendent  in  a  waist  of  blazing 
red,  gaudily  trimmed,  and  with  puff  sleeves, 
each  wider  than  the  vast  expanse  of  white 
straw,  surmounted  with  a  whole  forest  of 
ostrich  feathers,  which  adorned  her  head. 
One_jrf_her  gloved  frja.pds  helft  the  'hnpre 
hoop-shaped  yellowish  handle  of  a  blue 

-~— * 


"  Good-evenin',  Jake  ! "  she  said,  with  os- 
tentatious vivacity. 

"Good-evenin',  Mamie!"  Jake  returned, 


104  YEKL- 

jumping  to  his  feet  and  violently  reddening, 
as  if  suddenly  pricked.  "  Mish  Fein,  my 
vife !  My  vife,  Mish  Fein  ! " 

Miss  Fein  made  a  stately  bow,  primly 
biting  her  lip  as  she  did  so.  Gitl,  with  the 
pot  in  her  hands,  stood  staring  sheepishly,  at 
a  loss  what  to  do. 

"  Say  '  I'm  glyad  to  meech  you,' "  Jake 
rged  her,  confusedly. 

The  English  phrase  was  more  than  Gitl 
ould  venture  to  echo. 

I  "  She  is  still  green''  Jake_apologized  for 
(her,  in  Yiddish. 

"Never  miri,  she  will  soon  oysgreen  her- 
self," Mamie  remarked,  with  patronizing  affa- 
bility. 

"  The  lada,  is  an  acquaintance  of  mine," 
Jake  explained  bashfully,  his  hand  feel- 
ing the  few  days'  growth  of  beard  on  his 
chin. 

Gitl  instinctively  scented  an  enemy  in 
the  visitor,  and  eyed  her  with  an  uneasy  gaze. 
Nevertheless  she  mustered  a  hospitable  air, 
and  drawing  up  the  rocking  chair,  she  said, 


A  PATERFAMILIAS.  105 

with  shamefaced  cordiality :  "  Sit  down  J  why 
should  you  be  standing?  You  may  be  seat- 
ed for  the  same  money." 

In  the  conversation  which  followed  Ma- 
mie did  most  of  the  talking.  With  a  nerv- 
ous volubility  often  broken  -by  an  irrelevant 
giggle,  and  violently  rocking  with  her  chair, 
she  ex patiated__on_jthe  charms  of  America, 
prophesying  that  her  hostess  would  bless  the  i 
day  of  her  arrival  on  its  soil,  and  went  off  in  ' 
ecstasies  over  Joey.  Shg_?pnke  yjth  an 
overdone  American  accent  in  the  dialect  of 
the  Polish  Jews,  affectedly  Germanized  and 
profusely  interspersed^wjthEnglish,  so  that 
Gitl,  whose  mother  tongue  was  Lithuanian 
Yiddish,  could  scarcely  catch  the  meaning  of 
one  half  of  her  flood  of  garrulity.  And  as 
she  thus  rattled  on,  she  now  examined  the 
room,  now  surveyed  Gitl  from  head  to  foot, 
now  fixed  her  with  a  look  of  studied  sar- 
casm, followed  by  a  side  glance  at  Jake, 
which  seemed  to  say,  "  Woe  to  you,  what  a 
rag  of  a  wife  yours  is!"  Whenever  Gitl 
ventured  a  timid  remark,  Mamie  would  nod 


106  YEKL. 

assent  with  dignified  amiability,  and  there- 
upon imitate  a  smile,  broad  yet  fleeting, 
which  she  had  seen  performed  by  some  up- 
town ladies. 

Jake  stared  at  the  lamp  with  a  faint 
simper,  scarcely  following  the  caller's  words. 
His  head  swam  with  embarrassment.  The 
consciousness  of  Gitl's  unattractive  appear- 
ance made  him  sick  with  shame  and  vexa- 
tion, and  his  eyes  carefully  avoided  her  ban- 
dana, as  a  culprit  schoolboy  does  the  evidence 
of  his  offence. 

"  You  mush  vant  you  tventy-fife  dollars," 
he  presently  nerved  himself  up  to  say  in 
English,  breaking  an  awkward  pause. 

"  I  should  cough  ! "  Mamie  rejoined. 

"  In  a  coupel  a  veeksh,  Mamie,  as  sure  as 
my  name  is  Jake." 

"  In  a  couple  o'  veeks !  No,  sirree !  I 
mus'  have  my  money  at  oncet.  I  don'  know 
vere  you  vill  get  it,  dough.  Vy,  a  married 

man  ! " — with  a  chuckle.  "  You  got  a of 

a  lot  o'  t'ings  to  pay  for.  You  took  de  foi- 
nitsha  by  a  custom  peddler,  ain'  it  ?  But 


A  PATERFAMILIAS. 


107 


what  a do  /  care  ?  I  vant  my  money. 

I  voiked  hard  enough  for  it" 

"  Don'  shpeak  English.  She'll  t'ink  I 
don'  knu  vot  ve  shpeakin',"  he  besought  her, 
in  accents  which  implied  intimacy  between 
the  two  of  them  and  a  common  aloofness 
from  Gitl. 

"  Vot  d'l  care  vot  she  t'inks  ?  She's  your 
vife,  ain'  it  ?  Veil,  she  mus'  know  ev'ry- 
t'ing.  Dot's  right !  A  husban'  dass'n't  hide 
not'ink  from  his  vife !" — with  another  chuckle 
and  another  look  of  deadly  sarcasm  at  Gitl. 
"  I  can  say  de  same  in  Jewish " 

"  Shurr-r  up,  Mamie  !"  he  interrupted  her, 
gaspingly. 

"  Don'tch  you  like  it,  lump  it !  A  vife 
mus'n't  be  skinned  like  a  strange  lady,  see  ?  " 
she  pursued  inexorably.  "  O'ly  a  strange 
goil  a  feller  might  bluff  dot  he  ain'  married, 
and  skin  her  out  of  tventy-five  dollars."  In 
point  of  fact,  he  had  never  directly  given 
himself  out  for  a  single  man  to  her.  But  it 
did  not  even  occur  to  him  to  defend  himself 
on  that  score. 


1 08  YEKL- 

"  Mamie  !  Ma-a-mie  !  Shtop  !  I'll  pay 
you  ev'ry  shent.  Shpeak  Jewesh,  pleashe  ! " 
he  implored,  as  if  for  life. 

"  You'r'    afraid    of    her  ?      Dot's    right ! 

o 

Dot's  right !  Dot's  nice !  All  religious  peo- 
ples is  afraid  of  deir  vifes.  But  vy  didn'  you 
say  you  vas  married  from  de  sta't,  an*  dot 
you  vant  money  to  send  for  dem  ?  "  she  tor- 
tured him,  with  a  lingering  arch  leer. 

"  For  Chrish'  shake,  Mamie  !"  he  entreat- 
ed her,  wincingly.  "  Shtop  to  shpeak  Eng- 
lish, an'  shpeak  shomet'ing  differench.  I'll 
shee  you — vere  can  I  shee  you  ?  " 

"  You  von't  come  by  Joe  no  more  ?"  she 
asked,  with  sudden  interest  and  even  solici- 
tude. 

"  You  t'ink  indeed  I'm  'frait  ?  If  I  vant- 
ed  I  can  gu  dere  more  ash  I  ushed  to  gu 
dere.  But  vere  can  I  findsh  you  ?  " 

"  I  guess  you  know  vere  I'm  livin',  don'ch 
you?  So  kvick  you  forget?  Vot  a  sho't 
mind  you  got !  Vill  you  come  ?  Never 
min',  I  know  you  are  only  bluffin',  an'  dot's 
all." 


A   PATERFAMILIAS.  iOg 

"  I'll  come,  ash  sure  ash  I  leev." 

"  Vill  you  ?  All  right.  But  if  you  don' 
come  an'  pay  me  at  least  ten  dollars  for  a 
sta't,  you'll  see  ! " 

In  the  meanwhile  Gitl,  poor  thing,  sat 
pale  and  horror-struck.  Mamie's  perfumes 
somehow  terrified  her.  She  was  racked  with 
jealousy  and  all  sorts  of  suspicions,  which  she 
vainly  struggled  to  disguise.  She  could  see 
that  they  were  having  a  heated  altercation, 
and  that  Jake  was  begging  about  something 
or  other,  and  was  generally  the  under  dog  in 
the  parley.  Ever  and  anon  she  strained  her 
ears  in  the  effort  to  fasten  some  of  the  in- 
comprehensible sounds  in  her  memory,  that 
she  might  subsequently  parrot  them  over  to 
Mrs.  Kavarsky,  and  ascertain  their  meaning. 
But,  alas !  the  attempt  proved  futile ;  "  never 
min'"  and  "all  right"  being  all  she  could 
catch. 

Mamie  concluded  her  visit  by  presenting 
Joey  with  the  imposing  sum  of  five  cents. 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  Say  '  danks,  sir ! ' " 
Gitl  prompted  the  boy. 


1 10  YEKL. 

("  Shay  '  t'ank  you,  ma'am  ! ' "  Jake  over- 
ruled her.     " '  Shir '  is  said  to  a  gentlemarn." 
"  Good-night ! "  Mamie  sang  out,  as  she 
majestically  opened  the  door. 

"  Good-night ! "  Jake  returned,  with  a 
burning  face. 

"  Goot-night ! "  Gitl  and  Joey  chimed  in 
duet. 

%v>         "  Say  '  cull  again  ! ' " 
G^S-  f         "Cullyegain!" 

"  Good-night ! "  Mamie  said  once  more, 
as  she  bowed  herself  out  of  the  door  with 
what  she  considered  an  exquisitely  "  tony  " 
smile. 

The  guest's  exit  was  succeeded  by  a  mo- 
mentary silence.  Jake  felt  as  if  his  face  and 
ears  were  on  fire. 

"  We  used  to  work  in  the  same  shop,"  he 
presently  said. 

"  Is  that  the  way  a  seamstress  dresses  in 
America  ? "  Gitl  inquired.  "  It  is  not  for 
nothing  that  it  is  called  the  golden  land," 
she  added,  with  timid  irony. 


A  PATERFAMILIAS.  Ill 

"  She  must  be  going  to  a  ball,"  he  ex- 
plained, at  the  same  moment  casting  a 
glance  at  the  looking-glass. 

The  word  "  ball "  had  an  imposing  ring 
for  Gitl's  ears.     At  home  she  had  heard  it 
used  in  connection  with  the  sumptuous  life 
of  the  Russian  or  Polish  nobility,  but  had 
never  formed  a  clear  idea  of  its  meaning. 
|        "  She  looks  a  veritable  panenke" *  she  re- 
marked, with   hidden   sarcasm.      "  Was  she 
I  born  here  ?  " 

*  Nu,  but  she  has  been  very  long   here. 

She  speaks  English  like  one  American  born. 

We  aTe^^aserj-io  speak  in  English  when  we 

talk  shop.     She  came  to  ask  me  about  a  job" 

Gitl  reflected  that  with   Bernstein  Jake 

I  was  in  the  habit  of  talking  shop  in  Yiddish, 

I  although  the  boarder  could  even  read  Eng- 

'  lish  books,  which  her  husband  could  not  do. 

*  A  young  noblewoman. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CIRCUMSTANCES   ALTER   CASES. 

JAKE  was  left  by  Mamie  in  a  state  of 
unspeakable  misery.  He  felt  discomfited, 
crushed,  the  universal  butt  of  ridicule.  Her 
perfumes  lingered  in  his  nostrils,  taking  his 
breath  away.  Her  venomous  gaze  stung  his 
heart.  She  seemed  to  him  elevated  above 
the  social  plane  upon  which  he  had  recently 
(though  the  interval  appeared  very  long) 
stood  by  her  side,  nay,  upon  which  he  had 
had  her  at  his  beck  and  call ;  while  he  was 
degraded,  as  it  were,  wallowing  in  a  mire, 
from  which  he  yearningly  looked  up  to  his 
former  equals,  vainly  begging  for  recogni- 
tion. An  uncontrollable  desire  took  posses- 
sion of  him  to  run  after  her,  to  have  an  ex- 


CIRCUMSTANCES  ALTER  CASES.  n^ 

^lanation,  and  to  swear  that  he  was  the  same 
Jake  and  as  much  of  a  Yankee  and  a  gallant 
as  ever.  But  Here  was  his  wife  fixing  him 
with  a  timid,  piteous  look,  which  at  once  ex- 
asperated and  cowed  him ;  and  he  dared  not 
stir  out  of  the  house,  as  though  nailed  by 
that  look  of  hers  to  the  spot 

He  lay  down  on  the  lounge,  and  shut  his 
eyes.  Gitl  dutifully  brought  him  a  pillow. 
As  she  adjusted  it  under  his  head  the  touch 
of  her  hand  on  his  face  made  him  shrink,  as 
if  at  the  contact  with  a  reptile.  He  was 
anxious  to  flee  from  his  wretched  self  into 
oblivion,  and  his  wish  was  soon  gratified,  the 
combined  effect  of  a  hard  day's  work  and  a 
plentiful  and  well-relished  supper  plunging 
him  into  a  heavy  sleep. 

While  his  snores  resounded  in  the  little 
kitchen,  Gitl  put  the  child  to  bed,  and  then 
passed  with  noiseless  step  into  the  boarders' 
room.  The  door  was  ajar  and  she  entered  it 
without  knocking,  as  was  her  wont  She 
found  Bernstein  bent  over  a  book,  with  a 
ponderous  dictionary  by  its  side.  A  kero- 


ii4  YEKL- 

sene  lamp  with  a  red  shade,  occupying  near- 
ly all  the  remaining  space  on  the  table, 
spread  a  lurid  mysterious  light.  Gitl  asked 
the  studious  cloakmaker  whether  he  knew  a 
Polish  girl  named  Mamie  Fein. 

"  Mamie  Fein  ?  No.  Why  ?  "  said  Bern- 
stein, with  his  index  finger  on  the  passage 
he  had  been  reading,  and  his  eyes  on  Gitl's 
plumpish  cheek,  bathed  in  the  roseate  light. 

"  Nothing.     May  not  one  ask  ?  " 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  Speak  out !  Are 
you  afraid  to  tell  me  ?  "  he  insisted. 

"  What  should  be  the  matter  ?  She  was 
here.  A  nice  lada" 

"  Your  husband  knows  many  nice  ladies? 
he  said,  with  a  faint  but  significant  smile. 
And  immediately  regretting  the  remark  he 
went  on  to  smooth  it  down  by  characteriz- 
ing Jake  as  an  honest  and  good-natured  fel- 
low. 

"You  ought  to  think  yourself  fortu- 
nate in  having  him  for  your  husband,"  he 
added. 

"  Yes,  but  what  did  you  mean  by  what 


CIRCUMSTANCES  ALTER  CASES.  115 

you  said  first  ?  "  she  demanded,  with  an  anx- 
ious air. 

"What  did  I  mean?  What  should  I 
have  meant  ?  I  meant  what  I  said.  'F 
cause  he  knows  many  girls.  But  who  does 
not?  You  know  there  are  always  girls  in 
the  shops  where  we  work.  Never  fear,  Jake 
has  nothing  to  do  with  them." 

"Who  says  I  fear!  Did  I  say  I  did? 
Why  should  I?" 

Encouraged  by  the  cheering  effect  which 
his  words  were  obviously  having  on  the 
credulous,  unsophisticated  woman,  he  pur- 
sued :  "May  no  Jewish  daughter  have  a 
worse  husband.  Be  easy,  be  easy.  I  tell 
you  he  is  melting  away  for  you.  He  never 
looked  as  happy  as  he  does  since  you  came." 

"  Go  away  !  You  must  be  making  fun  of 
me ! "  she  said,  beaming  with  delight. 

"  Don't  you  believe  me  ?  Why,  are  you 
not  a  pretty  young  woman  ?  "  he  remarked, 
with  an  oily  look  in  his  eye. 

The  crimson  came  into  her  cheek,  and 
she  lowered  her  glance. 


Il6  YEKL. 

"  Stop  making  fun  of  me,  I  beg  you,"  she 
said  softly.  "  Is  it  true  ?  " 

"  Is  what  true  ?  That  you  are  a  pretty 
young  woman  ?  Take  a  looking-glass  and 
see  for  yourself." 

"  Strange  man  that  you  are ! "  she  re- 
turned, with  confused  deprecation.  "  I  mean 
what  you  said  before  about  Jake,"  she  fal- 
tered. 

"Oh,  about  Jake!  Then  say  so,"  he 
jested.  "  Really  he  loves  you  as  life." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  she  queried,  wist- 
fully. 

"  How  do  I  know ! "  he  repeated,  with  an 
amused  smile.  "  As  if  one  could  not  see ! " 

"  But  he  never  told  you  himself ! " 

"  How  do  you  know  he  did  not  ?  You 
have  guessed  wrongly,  see  !  He  did,  lots  of 
times,"  he  concluded  gravely,  touched  by  the 
anxiety  of  the  poor  woman. 

She  left  Bernstein's  room  all  thrilling 
with-  joy,  and  repentant  for  her  excess  of 
communicativeness.  "A  wife  must  not  tell 
other  people  what  happens  to  her  husband," 


CIRCUMSTANCES  ALTER  CASES.  nj 

she  lectured  herself,  in  the  best  of  humours. 
Still,  the  words  "  Your  husband  knows  many 
nice  ladas?  kept  echoing  at  the  bottom  of 
her  soul,  and  in  another  few  minutes  she  was 
at  Mrs.  Kavarsky's,  confidentially  describing 
Mamie's  visit  as  well  as  her  talk  with  the 
boarder,  omitting  nothing  save  the  latter's 
compliments  to  her  looks. 

Mrs.  Kavarsky  was  an  eccentric,  scraggy 
little  woman,  with  a  vehement  manner  and 
no  end  of  words  and  gesticulations.  Her 
dry  face  was  full  of  warts  and  surmounted  by 
a  chaotic  mass  of  ringlets  and  curls  of  a 
faded  brown.  None  too  tidy  about  her  per- 
son, and  rather  slattern  in  general  appear- 
ance, she  zealously  kept  up  the  over-scrupu- 
lous cleanliness  for  which  the  fame  of  her 
apartments  reached  far  and  wide.  Her 
neighbours  and  townsfolk  pronounced  her 
crazy  but  "  with  a  heart  of  diamond,"  that  is 
to  say,  the  diametrical  opposite  of^the  pre- 
cious stone  in  point  of  hardness,  and  resem- 
bling it  in  the  general  sense  of  excellence  of 
quality.  She  was  neighbourly  enough,  and 


118  YEKL. 

as  she  was  the  most  prosperous  and  her  es- 
tablishment the  best  equipped  in  the  whole 
tenement,  many  a  woman  would  come  to 
"Borrow^some  cooking  utensil  or  other,  or 
even  a  few  dollars  on  rent  day,  which  Mrs. 
Kavarsky  always  started  by  refusing  in  the 
most  pointed  terms,  and  almost  always  fin- 
ished by  granting. 

She  started  to  listen  to  Gitl's  report  with 
a  fierce  mien  which  gradually  thawed  into  a 
sage  smile.  When  the  young  neighbour 
had  rested  her  case,  she  first  nodded  her 
head,  as  who  should  say,  "  What  fools  this 
young  generation  be  ! "  and  then  burst  out : 

"  Do  you  know  what  /  have  to  tell  you  ? 
Guess ! " 

Gitl  thought  Heaven  knows  what  revela- 
tions awaited  her. 

"That  you  are  a  lump  of  horse  and  a 
greenhorn  and  nothing  else ! "  (Gitl  felt 
much  relieved.)  "That  piece  of  ugliness 
should  try  and  come  to  my  house !  Then 
she  would  know  the  price  of  a  pound  of  evil. 
I  should  open  the  door  and — march  to 


CIRCUMSTANCES  ALTER  CASES.  ng 

eighty  black  years!     Let  her  go  to  where 

she  came  from !     America  is  not   Russia, 

\  thanked-bg_the  Lord  of  tfee^world. Here 

v   one  must  only  know  how  to  handle  a  hus- 

(band      Here    a    husband    must    remember 

' ladas  foist' — but  then  you   do  not  even 

know  what  that  means  ! "  she  exclaimed,  with 

a  despairing  wave  of  her  hand 

"What  does  it  mean?"  Gitl  inquired, 
pensively. 

"What  does  it  mean?  What  should  it 
mean?  It  means  but  too  well,  never  min\ 
It  means  that  when  a  husband  does  not  be- 
habe  as  he  should,  one  does  not  stroke  his 
cheeks  for  it  A  prohibition  upon  me  if  one 
does.  If  the  wife  is  no  greenhorn  she  gets 
him  shoved  into  the  oven,  over  there,  across 
the  river." 

"  You  mean  they  send  him  to  prison  ?  " 

"Where  else — to  the  theatre?"  Mrs.  Ka- 
varsky  mocked  her  furiously. 

"  A  weeping  to  me ! "  Gitl  said,  with  hor- 
ror. " May  God  save  me  from  such  things!" 

In  due  course  Mrs.  Kavarsky  arrived  at 


120 

the  subject  of  head-gear,  and  for  the  third  or 
fourth  time  she  elicited  from  her  pupil  a 
promise  to  discard  the  kerchief  and  to  sell 
the  wig. 

"  No  wonder  he  does  hate  you,  seeing 
you  in  that  horrid  rag,  which  makes  a  grand- 
ma of  you.  Drop  it,  I  tell  you  !  Drop  it  so 
that  no  survivor  nor  any  refugee  is  left  of  it. 
If  you  don't  obey  me  this  time,  dare  not 
cross  my  threshold  any  more,  do  you  hear  ? " 
she  thundered.  "  One  might  as  well  talk  to 
the  wall  as  to  her ! "  she  proceeded,  actually 
addressing  herself  to  the  opposite  wall  of  her 
kitchen,  and  referring  to  her  interlocutrice  in 
the  third  person.  "  I  am  working  and  work- 
ing for  her,  and  here  she  appreciates  it  as 
much  as  the  cat.  Fie!"  With  which  the 
irate  lady  averted  her  face  in  disgust.  ' 

"I  shall  take  it  off;  now  for  sure — as 
sure  as  this  is  Wednesday,"  said  Gitl,  beseech- 
ingly. 

Mrs.  Kavarsky  turned  back  to  her  paci- 
fied. 

"  Remember  now  !      If   you    deshepoitn 


CIRCUMSTANCES  ALTER  CASES.  I2i 

[disappoint]    me   this   time,   well! — look   at 
me!     I  should  think  I  was  no  Gentile  wo- 
man, either.     I  am  as  pious  as  you  anyhull, 
and  come  from  no  mean  family,  either.    You 
jcnow  I  hate  to  boast ;  but  my  father — peace 
'><|be  upon  him ! — was  fit  to  be  a  rabbi.     Veil, 
S  and  yet  I  am  not  afraid  to  go  with  my  own 
hair.     May  no  greater  sins  be  committed! 
Then  it  would  be  never  miri  enough.     Plen- 
ty of  time  for  putting  on  the  patch  [mean- 
ing the  wig]  when  I  get  old ;  but  as  long  as 
I  am  young,  I  am  young  an'  *&/'.$•  ull!     It 
can  not  be  helped ;  when  one  lives  in  an  ed- 
r  zecate  country,  one  must  live   \\ke_edzecate 
^peoples.     As  they  play,  so  one  dances,  as  the 
*  saying  is.     But  I  think  it  is  time  for  you  to 
be  going.     Go,  my  little  kitten,"  Mrs.  Ka- 
varsky  said,  suddenly  lapsing  into  accents  of 
the  most  tender  affection.     "  He  may  be  up 
f  by  this  time  and  wanting  tea.     Go,  my  little 
Jllamb,  go  and  try  to  make  yourself  ^agreeable 
^tojiim  and  the  Uppermost  will  help.     In 
America  one  must  take  care  not  to  displease 
a  husband.     Here    one   is  to-day  in   New 


122  YEKL. 

York  and  to-morrow  in  Chicago ;  do  you 
understand  ?  As  if  there  were  any  shame  or 
decency  here  !  A  father  is  no  father,  a  wife, 
no  wife — noting  /  Go  now,  my  baby  !  Go 
and  throw  away  your  rag  and  be  a  nice  wo- 
man, and  everything  will  be  ull  right" 
And  so  hurrying  Gitl  to  go,  she  detained  her 
with  ever  a  fresh  torrent  of  loquacity  for  an- 
other ten  minutes,  till  the  young  woman, 
standing  on  pins  and  needles  and  scarcely 
lending  an  ear,  plucked  up  courage  to  plead 
her  household  duties  and  take  a  hasty  de- 
parture. 

She  found  Jake  fast  asleep.  It  was  after 
eleven  when  he  slowly  awoke.  He  got  up 
with  a  heavy  burden  on  his  soul — a  vague 
sense  of  having  met  with  some  horrible  re- 
buff. In  his  semiconsciousness  he  was  una- 
ware, however,  of  his  wife's  and  son's  exist- 
ence and  of  the  change  which  their  advent 
had  produced  in  his  life,  feeling  himself  the 
same  free  bird  that  he  had  been  a  fortnight 
ago.  He  stared  about  the  room,  as  if  won- 
dering where  he  was.  Noticing  Gitl,  who  at 


CIRCUMSTANCED  ALTER  CASES.  ^3 

that  moment  came  out  of  the  bedroom,  he 
instantly  realized  the  situation,  recalling  Ma- 
mie, hat,  perfumes,  and  all,  and  his  heart 
sank  within  him.  The  atmosphere  of  the 
room  became  stifling  to  him.  After  sitting 
on  the  lounge  for  some  time  with  a  droop- 
ing head,  he  was  tempted  to  fling  himself  on 
the  pillow  again,  but  instead  of  doing  so  he 
slipped  on  his  hat  and  coat  and  went  out. 

Gitl  was  used  to  his  goings  and  comings  ^ 
without  explanation.  Yet  this  time  his  slam 
of  the  door  sent  a  sharp  pang  through  her 
heart.  She  had  no  doubt  but  that  he  was 
bending  his  steps  to  another  interview  with 
the  Polish  witch,  as  she  mentally  branded 
Miss  Fein. 

Nor  was  she  mistaken,  for  Jake  did  start, 
mechanically,  in  the  direction  of  Chrystie 
Street,  where  Mamie  lodged.  He  felt  sure 
that  she  was  away  to  some  ball,  but  the 
very  house  in  which  she  roomed  seemed  to 
draw  him  with  magnetic  force.  Moreover, 
he  had  a  lurking  hope  that  he  might,  after 
all,  find  her  about  the  building.  Ah,  if  by  a 


124  YEKL- 

stroke  of  good  luck  he  came  upon  her  on 
the  street !  All  he  wished  was  to  have  a 
talk,  and  that  for  the  sole  purpose  of  amend- 
ing her  unfavourable  impression  of  him. 
Then  he  would  never  so  much  as  think  of 
Mamie,  for,  indeed,  she  was  hateful  to  him, 
he  persuaded  himself. 

Arrived  at  his  destination,  and  failing  to 
find  Mamie  on  the  sidewalk,  he  was  tempted 
to  wait  till  she  came  from  the  ball,  when  he 
was  seized  with  a  sudden  sense  of  the  impro- 
priety of  his  expedition,  and  he  forthwith  re- 
turned home,  deciding  in  his  mind,  as  he 
walked,  to  move  with  his  wife  and  child  to 
Chicago. 

Meanwhile  Mamie  lay  brooding  in  her 
cot-bed  in  the  parlour,  which  she  shared  with 
her  landlady's  two  daughters.  She  was  in 
the  most  wretched  frame  of  mind,  ineffectu- 
ally struggling  to  fall  asleep.  She  had  made 
her  way  down  the  stairs  leading  from  the 
Podkovniks  with  a  violently  palpitating 
heart.  She  had  been  bound  for  no  more 
imposing  a  place  than  Joe's  academy,  and 


CIRCUMSTANCES   ALTER   CASES.  125 

before  repairing  thither  she  had  had  to  be- 
take herself  home  to  change  her  stately  toi- 
let for  a  humbler  attire.  For,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  it  was  expressly  for  her  visit  to  the  Pod- 
kovniks  that  she  had  thus  pranked  herself 
out,  and  that  would  have  been  much  too 
gorgeous  an  appearance  to  make  at  Joe's 
establishment  on  one  of  its  regular  dancing 
evenings.  Having  changed  her  toilet  she 
did  call  at  Joe's;  but  so  full  was  her  mind 
of  Jake  and  his  wife  and,  accordingly,  she 
was  so  irritable,  that  in  the  middle  of  a  qua- 
drille she  picked  a  quarrel  with  the  dancing 
master,  and  abruptly  left  the  hall. 

The  next  day  Jake's  work  fared  badly. 
When  it  was  at  last  over  he  did  not  go  di- 
rect home  as  usual,  but  first  repaired  to  Ma- 
mie's. He  found  her  with  her  landlady  in 
the  kitchen.  She  looked  careworn  and  was 
in  a  white  blouse  which  lent  her  face  a  con- 
valescent, touching  effect. 

"  Good-eveni'g,  Mrs.  Bunetzky  !  Good- 
eveni'g,  Mamie  ! "  he  fairly  roared,  as  he  play- 


126  YEKL. 

fully  fillipped  his  hat  backward.  And  after 
addressing  a  pleasantry  or  two  to  the  mis- 
tress of  the  house,  he  boldly  proposed  to  her 
boarder  to  go  out  with  him  for  a  talk.  For 
a  moment  Mamie  hesitated,  fearing  lest  her 
landlady  had  become  aware  of  the  existence 
of  a  Mrs.  Podkovnik ;  but  instantly  flinging 
all  considerations  to  the  wind,  she  followed 
him  out  into  the  street. 

"  You'sh  afraid  I  vouldn't  pay  you,  Ma- 
mie ?  "  he  began,  with  bravado,  in  spite  of  his 
intention  to  start  on  a  different  line,  he  knew 
not  exactly  which. 

Mamie  was  no  less  disappointed  by 
the  opening  of  the  conversation  than 
he.  "  I  ain't  afraid  a  bit,"  she  answered, 
sullenly. 

"  Do  you  think  my  kshpenshesh  are  larger 
now ? "  he  resumed  in  Yiddish.  "May  I  lose 
as  much  through  sickness.  On  the  coun- 
trary,  I  stipend  even  much  less  than  I  used 
to.  We  have  twonice  boarders — I  keep 
them  only  for  company's  sake — and  I  have 
a  shteada  job — a  puddiri  of  a  job.  I  shall 


CIRCUMSTANCES   ALTER   CASES. 


127 


have  still  more  money  to  stipend  outskite" 
he  added,  falteringly. 

"  Outside  ?  " — and  she  burst  into  an  arti- 
ficial laugh  which  sent  the  blood  to  Jake's  face. 

"  Why,  do  you  think  I  sha'n't  go  to  Joe's, 
nor  to  the  theatre,  nor  anywhere  any  more  ? 
Still  oftener  than  before !  Hoy  much  vill 
you  bet  ?  " 

"  Rats  !  A  married  man,  a  papa  go  to  a 
dancing  school !  Not  unless  your  wife  drags 
along  with  you  and  never  lets  go  of  your 
skirts,"  she  said  sneeringly,  adding  the  decla- 
ration that  Jake's  "  bluffs  "  gave  her  a  "  reg- 
ula'  pain  in  de  neck." 

Jake,  writhing  under  her  lashes,  protested 
his  freedom  as  emphatically  as  he  could ;  but 
it  only  served  to  whet  Mamie's  spite,  and 
against  her  will  she  went  on  twitting  him  as 
a  henpecked  husband  and  an  old-fashioned 
Jew.  Finally  she  reverted  to  the  subject  of 
his  debt,  whereupon  he  took  fire,  and  after 
an  interchange  of  threats  and  some  quite 
forcible  language  they  parted  company. 


128  YEKL. 

From  that  evening  the  spectre  of  Mamie 
dressed  in  her  white  blouse  almost  unremit- 
tingly preyed  on  Jake's  mind.  The  mourn- 
ful sneer  which  had  lit  her  pale,  invalid-look- 
ing face  on  their  last  interview,  when  she 
wore  that  blouse,  relentlessly  stared  down 
into  his  heart ;  gnawed  at  it  with  tantalizing 
deliberation  ;  "  drew  out  his  soul,"  as  he  once 
put  it  to  himself,  dropping  his  arms  and  head 
in  despair.  "Is  this  what  they  call  love ? " 
he  wondered,  thinking  of  the  strange,  hither- 
to unexperienced  kind  of  malady,  which 
seemed  to  be  gradually  consuming  his  whole 
being.  He  felt  as  if  Mamie  had  breathed  a 
delicious  poison  into  his  veins,  which  was 
now  taking  effect,  spreading  a  devouring 
fire  through  his  soul,  and  kindling  him  with 
a  frantic  thirst  for  more  of  the  same  virus. 
His  features  became  distended,  as  it  were, 
and  acquired  a  feverish  effect ;  his  eyes  had  a 
pitiable,  beseeching  look,  like  those  of  a 
child  in  the  period  of  teething. 

He  grew  more  irritable  with  Gitl  every 
day,  the  energy  failing  him  to  dissemble  his 


CIRCUMSTANCES  ALTER  CASES.  129 

hatred  for  her.  There  were  moments  when, 
in  his  hopeless  craving  for  the  presence  of 
Mamie,  he  would  consciously  seek  refuge  in 
a  feeling  of  compunction  and  of  pity  for  his 
wife ;  and  on  several  such  occasions  he  made 
an  effort  to  take  an  affectionate  tone  with 
her.  But  the  unnatural  sound  of  his  voice 
each  time  only  accentuated  to  himself  the 
depth  of  his  repugnance,  while  the  hysterical 
promptness  of  her  answers,  the  servile  grati- 
tude which  trembled  in  her  voice  and  shone 
out  of  her  radiant  face  would,  at  such  in- 
stances, make  him  breathless  with  rage. 
Poor  Gitl !  she  strained  every  effort  to  please 
him ;  she  tried  to  charm  him  by  all  the  sim- 
ple-minded little  coquetries  she  knew,  by 
every  art  which  her  artless  brain  could  in- 
vent ;  and  only  succeeded  in  making  herself 
more  offensive  than  ever. 

As  to  Jake's  feelings  for  Joey,  they  now 
alternated  between  periods  of  indifference 
and  gusts  of  exaggerated  affection  ;  while,  in 
some  instances,  when  the  boy  let  himself  be 
fondled  by  his  mother  or  returned  her  ca- 


130  YEKL. 

resses  in  his  childish  way,  he  would  appear 
to  Jake  as  siding  with  his  enemy,  and  share 
with  Gitl  his  father's  odium. 

One  afternoon,  shortly  after  Jake's  inter- 
view with  Mamie  in  front  of  the  Chrystie 
Street  tenement  house,  Fanny  called  on  Gitl. 

"  Are  you  Mrs.  Podkovnik  ? "  she  in- 
quired, with  an  embarrassed  air. 

"  Yes ;  why  ?  "  Mrs.  Podkovnik  replied, 
turning  pale.  "  She  is  come  to  tell  me  that 
Jake  has  eloped  with  that  Polish  girl," 
flashed  upon  her  overwrought  mind.  At 
the  same  moment  Fanny,  sizing  her  up,  ex- 
claimed inwardly,  "  So  this  is  the  kind  of 
woman  she  is,  poor  thing ! " 

"Nothing.  I  just  want  to  speak  to 
you,"  the  visitor  uttered,  mysteriously. 

"What  is  it?" 

"  As  I  say,  nothing  at  all.  Is  there  no- 
body else  in  the  house  ? "  Fanny  demanded, 
looking  about. 

"  May  I  not  live  till  to-morrow  if  there  is 
a  living  soul  except  my  boy,  and  he  is  asleep. 


CIRCUMSTANCES  ALTER  CASES.  131 

You  may  speak ;  never  fear.  But  first  tell 
me  who  you  are ;  do  not  take  ill  my  ques- 
tion. Be  seated" 

The  girl's  appearance  and  manner  began 
to  inspire  Gitl  with  confidence. 

"  My  name  is  Rosy — Rosy  Blank,"  said 
Fanny,  as  she  took  a  seat  on  the  further  end 
of  the  lounge.  "  'F  course,  you  don't  know 
me,  how  should  you  ?  But  I  know  you  well 
enough,  never  mind  that  we  have  never  seen 
each  other  before.  I  used  to  work  with 
your  husband  in  one  shop.  I  have  come  to 
tell  you  such  an  important  thing!  You 
must  know  it  It  makes  no  difference  that 
you  don't  know  who  I  am.  May  God  grant 
me  as  good  a  year  as  my  friendship  is  for 
you." 

"Something  about  Jake?"  Gitl  blurted 
out,  all  anxiety,  and  instantly  regretted  the 
question. 

"  How  did  you  guess  ?  About  Jake  it 
is!  About  him  and  somebody  else.  But 
see  how  you  did  guess!  Swear  that  you 
won't  tell  anybody  that  I  have  been  here.** 


132  YEKL. 

"May  I  be  left  speechless,  may  my  arms 
and  legs  be  paralyzed,  if  I  ever  say  a  word  ! " 
Gitl  recited  vehemently,  thrilling  with  anx- 
iety and  impatience.  "  So  it  is !  they  have 
eloped ! "  she  added  in  her  heart,  seating  her- 
self close  to  her  caller.  "A  darkness  upon 
my  years !  What  will  become  of  me  and 
Yossele"  now  ?  " 

"  Remember,  now,  not  a  word,  either  to 
Jake  or  to  anybody  else  in  the  world.  I  had 
a  mountain  of  trouble  before  I  found  out 
where  you  lived,  and  I  stopped  work  on  pur- 
pose to  come  and  speak  to  you.  As  true  as 
you  see  me  alive.  I  wanted  to  call  when 
I  was  sure  to  find  you  alone,  you  under- 
stand. Is  there  really  nobody  about  ?"  And 
after  a  preliminary  glance  at  the  door  and 
exacting  another  oath  of  discretion  from 
Mrs.  Podkovnik,  Fanny  began  in  an  under- 
tone: 

"There  is  a  girl;  well,  her  name  is  Ma- 
mie ;  well,  she  and  your  husband  used  to  go 
to  the  same  dancing  school — that  is  a  place 
where  fellers  and  ladies  learn  to  dance,"  she 


CIRCUMSTANCES  ALTER  CASES.  133 

explained.  "  I  go  there,  too ;  but  I  know 
your  husband  from  the  shop." 

"  But  that  lada  has  also  worked  in  the 
same  shop  with  him,  hasn't  she  ?  "  Gitl  broke 
in,  with  a  desolate  look  in  her  eye. 

"  Why,  did  Jake  tell  you  she  had  ?  "  Fan- 
ny asked  in  surprise. 

11  No,  not  at  all,  not  at  all !  I  am  just 
asking.  May  I  be  sick  if  I  know  anything." 

"The  idea!  How  could  they  work  to- 
gether, seeing  that  she  is  a  shirtmaker  and 
he  a  cloak  maker.  Ah,  if  you  knew  what  a 
witch  she  is !  She  has  set  her  mind  on  your 
husband,  and  is  bound  to  take  him  away 
from  you.  She  hitched  on  to  him  long  ago. 
But  since  you  came  I  thought  she  would 
have  God  in  her  heart,  and  be  ashamed  of 
people.  Not  she !  She  be  ashamed  !  You 
may  sling  a  cat  into  her  face  and  she  won't 
mind  it.  The  black  year  knows  where  she 
grew  up.  I  tell  you  there  is  not  a  girl  in 
the  whole  dancing  school  but  can  not  bear 
the  sight  of  that  Polish  lizard  ! " 

"Why,  do  they   meet   and   kiss?"  Gitl 


I34  YEKL. 

moaned  out.  "Tell  me,  do  tell  me  all,  my 
little  crown,  keep  nothing  from  me,  tell  me 
my  whole  dark  lot." 

"  Ull  right,  but  be  sure  not  to  speak 
to  anybody.  I'll  tell  you  the  truth :  My 
name  is  not  Rosy  Blank  at  all.  It  is 
Fanny  Scutelsky.  You  see,  I  am  telling 
you  the  whole  truth.  The  other  evening 
they  stood  near  the  house  where  she  boards, 
on  Chrystie  Street ;  so  they  were  looking 
into  each  other's  eyes  and  talking  like  a  pair 
of  little  doves.  A  lady  who  is  a  particla 
friend  of  mine  saw  them  ;  so  she  says  a  child 
could  have  guessed  that  she  was  making 
love  to  him  and  trying  to  get  him  away 
from  you.  *F  cou'se  it  is  none  of  my  busi- 
ness. Is  it  my  business,  then?  What  do  / 
care?  It  is  only  becuss  I  pity  you.  It  is 
like  the  nature  I  have ;  I  can  not  bear  to  see 
anybody  in  trouble.  Other  people  would 
not  care,  but  I  do.  Such  is  my  nature.  So 
I  thought  to  myself  I  must  go  and  tell  Mrs. 
Podkovnik  all  about  it,  in  order  that  she 
might  know  what  to  do." 


CIRCUMSTANCES  ALTER  CASES.  135 

For  several  moments  Gitl  sat  speechless, 
her  head  hung  down,  and  her  bosom  heaving 
rapidly.  Then  she  fell  to  swaying  her  frame 
sidewise,  and  vehemently  wringing  her 
hands. 

"Oi!  Oi!  Little  mother !  A  pain  to 
me!"  she  moaned.  "What  is  to  be  done? 
Lord  of  the  world,  what  is  to  be  done? 
Come  to  the  rescue !  People,  do  take  pity, 
come  to  the  rescue ! "  She  broke  into  a  fit 
of  low  sobbing,  which  shook  her  whole  form 
and  was  followed  by  a  torrent  of  tears. 

Whereupon  Fanny  also  burst  out  crying, 
and  falling  upon  Gitl's  shoulder  she  mur- 
mured :  "  My  little  heart !  you  don't  know 
what  a  friend  I  am  to  you !  Oh,  if  you 
knew  what  a  serpent  that  Polish  thief  is ! " 


CHAPTER   VII. 

MRS.  KAVARSKY'S  COUP  D'ETAT. 

IT  was  not  until  after  supper  time  that 
Gitl  could  see  Mrs.  Kavarsky  ;  for  the  neigh- 
bour's husband  was  in  the  installment  busi- 
ness, and  she  generally  spent  all  day  in  help- 
ing him  with  his  collections  as  well  as 
canvassing  for  new  customers.  When  Gitl 
came  in  to  unburden  herself  of  Fanny's  rev- 
elations, she  found  her  confidante  out  of 
sorts.  Something  had  gone  wrong  in  Mrs. 
Kavarsky 's  affairs,  and,  while  she  was  per- 
fectly aware  that  she  had  only  herself  to 
blame,  she  had  laid  it  all  to  her  husband  and 
had  nagged  him  out  of  the  house  before  he 
had  quite  finished  his  supper. 

She    listened    to    her   neighbour's   story 


MRS.  KAVARSKY'S  COUP  D'ETAT.  137 

with  a  bored  and  impatient  air,  and  when 
Gitl  had  concluded  and  paused  for  her  opin- 
ion, she  remarked  languidly :  "  It  serves  you 
right !  It  is  all  becuss  you  will  not  throw 
away  that  ugly  kerchief  of  yours.  What  is 
the  use  of  your  asking  my  advice  ?  " 

"  Oi!  I  think  even  that  wouldn't  help  it 
now,"  Gitl  rejoined,  forlornly.  "  The  Upper- 
most knows  what  drug  she  has  charmed  him 
with.  A  cholera  into  her,  Lord  of  the 
world  ! "  she  added,  fiercely. 

Mrs.  Kavarsky  lost  her  temper. 

"Say,  will  you  stop  talking  nonsense?" 
she  shouted  savagely.  "No  wonder  your 
husband  does  not  care  for  you,  seeing  these 
stupid  greenhornlike  notions  of  yours." 

"  How  then  could  she  have  bewitched 
him,  the  witch  that  she  is?  Tell  me,  little 
heart,  little  crown,  do  tell  me!  Take  pity 
and  be  a  mother  to  me.  I  am  so  lonely 

and  "  Heartrending  sobs  choked  her 

voice. 

"What  shall  I  tell  you?  that  you  are  a 
blockhead  ?  Oi!  Oi!  Oi!  "  she  mocked  her. 


138  YEKL. 

"  Will  the  crying  help  you  ?  Ull  right,  cry 
away ! " 

"But  what  shall  I  do?"  Gitl  pleaded, 
wiping  her  tears.  "  It  may  drive  me  mad.  I 
won't  wear  the  kerchief  any  more.  I  swear 
this  is  the  last  day,"  she  added,  propitiat- 
ingly. 

"Dot's  right!  When  you  talk  like  a 
man  I  like  you.  And  now  sit  still  and  lis- 
ten to  what  an  older  person  and  a  business 
woman  has  to  tell  you.  In  the  first  place, 
who  knows  what  that  girl — Jennie,  Fannie, 
Shmennie,  Yomtzedemennie — whatever  you 
may  call  her — is  after?  "  The  last  two  names 
Mrs.  Kavarsky  invented  by  poetical  license 
to  complete  the  rhyme  and  for  the  greater 
emphasis  of  her  contempt.  "In  the  second 
place,  asposel  [supposing]  he  did  talk  to  that 
Polish  piece  of  disturbance.  Veil,  what  of 
it  ?  It  is  all  over  with  the  world,  isn't  it  ? 
The  mourner's  prayer  is  to  be  said  after  it, 
I  declare !  A  married  man  stood  talking  to 
a  girl!  Just  think  of  it!  May  no  greater 
evil  befall  any  Yiddish  daughter.  This  is 


MRS.  KAVARSKY'S   COUP   D'ETAT.  i^g 

vnot  Europe  where  one  dares  not  say  a  word 
to  a  strange  woman  !  Nut  sir  /  " 
'  "What,  then,  is  the  matter  with  him? 
At  home  he  would  hardly  ever  leave  my 
side,  and  never  ceased  looking  into  my  eyes. 
Woe  is  me,  what  America  has  brought  me 
to  ! "  And  again  her  grief  broke  out  into  a 
flood  of  tears. 

This  time  Mrs.  Kavarsky  was  moved. 

"  Don't  be  crying,  my  child ;  he  may 
come  in  for  you,"  she  said,  affectionately. 
"  Believe  me  you  are  making  a  mountain  out 
of  a  fly — you  are  imagining  too  much." 

"  Oz,  as  my  ill  luck  would  have  it,  it  is 
all  but  too  true.  Have  I  no  eyes,  then? 
He  mocks  at  everything  I  say  or  do ;  he  can 
not  bear  the  touch  of  my  hand.  America 
has  made  a  mountain  of  ashes  out  of  me. 
Really,  a  curse  upon  Columbus ! "  she  ejacu- 
lated mournfully,  quoting  in  all  earnestness  a 
current  joke  of  the  Ghetto. 

Mrs.  Kavarsky  was  too  deeply  touched 
to  laugh.  She  proceeded  to  examine  her 
pupil,  in  whispers,  upon  certain  details,  and 


140  YEKL. 

thereupon  her  interest  in  Gitl's  answers  grad- 
ually superseded  her  commiseration  for  the 
unhappy  woman. 

"And  how  does  he  behave  toward  the 
boy  ? "  she  absently  inquired,  after  a  melan- 
choly pause. 

"  Would  he  were  as  kind  to  me ! " 

"  Then  it  is  ull  right !  Such  things  will 
happen  between  man  and  wife.  It  is  all 
humbuk.  It  will  all  come  right,  and  you 
will  some  day  be  the  happiest  woman  in  the 
world.  You  shall  see.  Remember  that 
Mrs.  Kavarsky  has  told  you  so.  And  in  the 
meantime  stop  crying.  A  husband  hates  a 
sniveller  for  a  wife.  You  know  the  story  of 
Jacob  and  Leah,  as  it  stands  written  in  the 
Holy  Five  Books,  don't  you  ?  Her  eyes  be- 
came red  with  weeping,  and  Jacob,  our  fa- 
ther, did  not  care  for  her  on  that  account. 
Do  you  understand  ?  " 

All  at  once  Mrs.  Kavarsky  bit  her  lip, 
her  countenance  brightening  up  with  a  sud- 
den inspiration.  At  the  next  instant  she 
made  a  lunge  at  Gitl's  head,  and  off  went  the 


MRS.  KAVARSKY'S  COUP  D'ETAT.  I4I 

kerchief.  Gitl  started  with  a  cry,  at  the 
same  moment  covering  her  head  with  both 
hands. 

"  Take  off  your  hands !  Take  them  off 
at  once,  I  say  ! "  the  other  shrieked,  her  eyes 
flashing  fire  and  her  feet  performing  an  Irish 

jig- 

Gitl  obeyed  for  sheer  terror.  Then,  push- 
ing her  toward  the  sink,  Mrs.  Kavarsky  said 
peremptorily  :  "  You  shall  wash  off  your  silly 
tears  and  I'll  arrange  your  hair,  and  from  this 
day  on  there  shall  be  no  kerchief,  do  you 
hear?" 

Gitl  offered  but  feeble  resistance,  just 
enough  to  set  herself  right  before  her  own 
conscience.  She  washed  herself  quietly,  and 
when  her  friend  set  about  combing  her  hair, 
she  submitted  to  the  operation  without  a 
murmur,  save  for  uttering  a  painful  hiss 
each  time  there  came  a  particularly  violent 
tug  at  the  comb ;  for,  indeed,  Mrs.  Kavarsky 
plied  her  weapon  rather  energetically  and 
with  a  bloodthirsty  air,  as  if  inflicting  pun- 
ishment. And  while  she  was  thus  attacking 


I42  YEKL. 

Gitl's  luxurious  raven  locks  she  kept  growl- 
ing, as  glibly  as  the  progress  of  the  comb 
would  allow,  and  modulating  her  voice  to  its 
movements :  "  Believe  me  you  are  a  lump 
of  hunchback,  szire  ;  you  may — may  depend 
up-upon  it !  Tell  me,  now,  do  you  ever 
comb  yourself?  You  have  raised  quite  a 
plica,  the  black  year  take  it !  Another  wo- 
man would  thank  God  for  such  beau-beau- 
tiful hair,  and  here  she  keeps  it  hidden  and 
makes  a  bu-bugbear  of  herself — a  regele 
monkey  !  "  she  concluded,  gnashing  her  teeth 
at  the  stout  resistance  with  which  her  imple- 
ment was  at  that  moment  grappling. 

Gitl's  heart  swelled  with  delight,  but  she 
modestly  kept  silent. 

Suddenly  Mrs.  Kavarsky  paused  thought- 
fully, as  if  conceiving  a  new  idea.  In  an- 
other moment  a  pair  of  scissors  and  curling 
irons  appeared  on  the  scene.  At  the  sight 
of  this  Gitl's  blood  ran  chill,  and  when  the 
scissors  gave  their  first  click  in  her  hair  she 
felt  as  though  her  heart  snapped.  Neverthe- 
less, she  endured  it  all  without  a  protest, 


MRS.  KAVARSKVS  COUP  D'ETAT.  I43 

blindly  trusting  that  these  instruments  of 
torture  would  help  ^reinstall  her  in  Jake's 
good  graces. 

At  last,  when  all  was  ready  and  she  found 
herself  adorned  with  a  pair  of  rich  side  bangs, 
she  was  taken  in  front  of  the  mirror,  and  or- 
dered to  hail  the  transformation  with  joy. 
She  viewed  herself  with  an  unsteady  glance, 
as  if  her  own  face  struck  her  as  unfamiliar 
and  forbidding.  However,  the  change 
pleased  her  as  much  as  it  startled  her. 

"  Do  you  really  think  he  will  like  it  ? " 
she  inquired  with  piteous  eagerness,  in  a  fever 
of  conflicting  emotions. 

"If  he  does  not,  I  shall  refund  your 
money ! "  her  guardian  snarled,  in  high  glee. 

For  a  moment  or  so  Mrs.  Kavarsky 
paused  to  admire  the  effect  of  her  art.  Then, 
in  a  sudden  transport  of  enthusiasm,  she 
sprang  upon  her  ward,  and  with  an  "  Oit  a 
health  to  you ! "  she  smacked  a  hearty  kiss 
on  her  burning  cheek. 

"  And  now  come,  piece  of  wretch  ! "  So 
saying,  Mrs.  Kavarsky  grasped  Gitl  by  the 


I44  YEKL- 

wrist,   and   forcibly  convoyed   her   into   her 
husband's  presence. 

The  two  boarders  were  out,  Jake  being 
alone  with  Joey.  He  was  seated  at  the  ta- 
ble, facing  the  door,  with  the  boy  on  his 
knees. 

"  Goot-evenik,  Mr.  Podkovnik !  Look 
what  I  have  brought  you :  a  brand  new 
wife ! "  Mrs.  Kavarsky  said,  pointing  at  her 
charge,  who  stood  faintly  struggling  to  dis- 
engage her  hand  from  her  escort's  tight  grip, 
her  eyes  looking  to  the  ground  and  her 
cheeks  a  vivid  crimson. 

Gitl's  unwonted  appearance  impressed 
Jake  as  something  unseemly  and  meretri- 
cious. The  sight  of  her  revolted  him. 

"  It  becomes  her  like  a — a — a  wet  cat,"  he 
faltered  out  with  a  venomous  smile,  choking 
down  a  much  stronger  simile  which  would 
have  conveyed  his  impression  with  much 
more  precision,  but  which  he  dared  not  ap- 
ply to  his  own  wife. 

The    boy's   first    impulse   upon   the   en- 


MRS.  KAVARSKY'S  COUP   D'ETAT.  14$ 

trance  of  his  mother  had  been  to  run  up  to 
her  side  and  to  greet  her  merrily ;  but  he, 
too,  was  shocked  by  the  change  in  her  as- 
pect, and  he  remained  where  he  was,  looking 
from  her  to  Jake  in  blank  surprise. 

"  Go  away,  you  don't  mean  it ! "  Mrs.  Ka- 
varsky  remonstrated  distressedly,  at  the  same 
moment  releasing  her  prisoner,  who  forth- 
with dived  into  the  bedroom  to  bury  her 
face  in  a  pillow,  and  to  give  way  to  a  stream 
of  tears.  Then  she  made  a  few  steps  toward 
Jake,  and  speaking  in  an  undertone  she  pro- 
ceeded to  take  him  to  task.  "  Another  man 
would  consider  himself  happy  to  have  such 
a  wife,"  she  said.  "  Such  a  quiet,  honest  wo- 
man !  And  such  a  housewife !  Why,  look 
at  the  way  she  keeps  everything — like  a  fid- 
dle. It  is  simply  a  treat  to  come  into  your 
house.  I  do  declare  you  sin  ! " 

"What  do  I  do  to  her?"  he  protested 
morosely,  cursing  the  intruder  in  his  heart. 

"  Who  says  you  do  ?  Mercy  and  peace  ! 
Only — you  understand — how  shall  I  say  it  ? 
— she  is  only  a  young  woman;  veil,  so  she 


146  YEKL. 

imagines  that  you  do  not  care  for  her  as  much 
as  you  used  to.  Come,  Mr.  Podkovnik,  you 
know  you  are  a  sensible  man !  I  have  al- 
ways thought  you  one — you  may  ask  my 
husband.  Really  you  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  yourself.  A  prohibition  upon  me  if  I 
could  ever  have  believed  it  of  you.  Do  you 
think  a  stylish  girl  would  make  you  a  better 
wife?  If  you  do,  you  are  grievously  mis- 
taken. What  are  they  good  for,  the  hus- 
sies? To  darken  the  life  of  a  husband? 
That,  I  admit,  they  are  really  great  hands  at. 
They  only  know  how  to  squander  his  money 
for  a  new  hat  or  rag  every  Monday  and 
Thursday,  and  to  tramp  around  with  other 
men,  fie  upon  the  abominations !  May  no 
good  Jew  know  them  ! " 

Her  innuendo  struck  Mrs.  Kavarsky  as 
extremely  ingenious,  and,  egged  on  by  the 
dogged  silence  of  her  auditor,  she  ventured  a 
step  further. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  she  went  on, 
emphasizing  each  word,  and  shaking  her 
whole  body  with  melodramatic  defiance, 


.  MRS.  KAVARSKY'S  COUP  D'ETAT.  I47 

"  that  you  would  be  better  off  with  a  dantz- 
iri -school  girl  ?  "  * 

"  A  danshin'-shchool  girl  ?  "  Jake  repeat- 
ed, turning  ashen  pale,  and  fixing  his  inquisi- 
tress  with  a  distant  gaze.  "Who  says  I 
care  for  a  danshin'-shchool  girl  ?  "  he  bellowed, 
as  he  let  down  the  boy  and  started  to  his 
feet  red  as  a  cockscomb.  "  It  was  she  who 
told  you  that,  was  it  ?  " 

Joey  had  tripped  up  to  the  lounge  where 
he  now  stood  watching  his  father  with  a 
stare  in  which  there  was  more  curiosity  than 
fright. 

The  little  woman  lowered  her  crest. 
"  Not  at  all !  God  be  with  you ! "  she  said 
quickly,  in  a  tone  of  abject  cowardice,  and  in- 
voluntarily shrinking  before  the  ferocious  at- 
titude of  Jake's  strapping  figure.  "  Who  ? 
What  ?  When  ?  I  did  not  mean  anything 
at  all,  sure.  Gitl  never  said  a  word  to  me. 
A  prohibition  if  she  did.  Come,  Mr.  Pod- 
kovnik,  why  should  you  get  ektzited?"  she 
pursued,  beginning  to  recover  her  presence 
of  mind.  "  By-the-bye — I  came  near  forget- 


148  YEKL. 

ting — how  about  the  boarder  you  promised 
to  get  me ;  do  you  remember,  Mr.  Podkov- 
nik  ?  " 

"  Talk  away  a  toothache  for  your  grand- 
ma, not  for  me.  Who  told  her  about  dansh- 
iri  girls?"  he  thundered  again,  re-enforcing 
the  ejaculation  with  an  English  oath,  and 
bringing  down  a  violent  fist  on  the  table  as 
he  did  so. 

At  this  Girl's  sobs  made  themselves  heard 
from  the  bedroom.  They  lashed  Jake  into  a 
still  greater  fury. 

"  What  is  she  whimpering  about,  the 
piece  of  stench  !  Alia  right,  I  do  hate  her ; 
I  can  not  bear  the  sight  of  her ;  and  let  her 
do  what  she  likes.  I dori  care!" 

"  Mr.  Podkovnik  !  To  think  of  a  sma't 
man  like  you  talking  in  this  way  ! " 

"  Dot'sh  alia  right ! "  he  said,  somewhat  re- 
lenting. "  I  don't  care  for  any  dans  kin  girls. 

It  is  a lie!  It  was  that  scabby 

greenhorn  who  must  have  taken  it  into  her 
head.  I  don't  care  for  anybody  ;  not  for  her 
certainly " — pointing  to  the  bedroom.  "  I/ 


MRS.  KAVARSKVS  COUP  D'ETAT.  149 

'am  an  American  feller,  a  Yankee*— that's 
*Jwhat  I  am.  WhaTpumsKmenr  is Tdue  to  me, 
,  jhen,  if  I  can  not  stand  a  shnooza  like  her? 
tft  is  nu  uShed;  I  can  not  live  with  her,  even 
if  she  stand  one  foot  on  heaven  an<l  one  on 
earth.  Let  her  take  every  thing  "—with  a 
wave  at  the  household  effects — "  and  I  shall 
pay  her  as  much  cash  as  she*  asks — I  am 
willing  to  break  stones  to  pay  her — provided 
she  agrees  to  a  divorce." 

The  word  had  no  sooner  left  his  lips  than 
Gitl  burst  out  of  the  darkness  of  her  retreat, 
her  bangs  dishevelled,  her  face  stained  and 
flushed  with  weeping  and  rage,  and  her  eyes, 
still  suffused  with  tears,  flashing  fire. 

"  May  you  and  your  Polish  harlot  be 
jumping  out  of  your  skins  and  chafing  with 
wounds  as  long  as  you  will  have  to  wait  for 
a  divorce ! "  she  exploded.  "He  thinks  I 
don't  know  how  they  stand  together  near 
her  house  making  love  to  each  other ! " 

Her  unprecedented  show  of  pugnacity 
took  him  aback. 

"  Look  at  the  Cossack  of  straw  ! "  he  said 


150  YEKL. 

quietly,  with  a  forced  smile.  "  Such  a  piece 
of  cholera  ! "  he  added,  as  if  speaking  to  him- 
self, as  he  resumed  his  seat.  "  I  wonder  who 
tells  her  all  these  fibs?" 

Gitl  broke  into  a  fresh  flood  of  tears. 

"  Vellt  what  do  you  want  now  ? "  Mrs. 
Kavarsky  said,  addressing  herself  to  her. 
"  He  says  it  is  a  lie.  I  told  you  you  take  all 
sorts  of  silly  notions  into  your  head." 

"Ack,  would  it  were  a  lie!"  Gitl  an- 
swered between  her  sobs. 

At  this  juncture  the  boy  stepped  up  to 
his  mother's  side,  and  nestled  against  her 
skirt.  She  clasped  his  head  with  both  her 
hands,  as  though  gratefully  accepting  an  offer 
of  succour  against  an  assailant.  And  then, 
for  the  vague  purpose  of  wounding  Jake's 
feelings,  she  took  the  child  in  her  arms,  and 
huddling  him  close  to  her  bosom,  she  half 
turned  from  her  husband,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  We  two  are  making  common  cause  against 
you."  Jake  was  cut  to  the  quick.  He  kept 
his  glance  fixed  on  the  reddened,  tear-stained 
profile  of  her  nose,  and,  choking  with  hate, 


MRS.  KAVARSKY'S  COUP  D'ETAT.  15  r 

he  was  going  to  say,  "  For  my  part,  hang 
yourself  together  with  him  ! "  But  he  had 
self  -  mastery  enough  to  repress  the  ex- 
clamation, confining  himself  to  a  disdainful 
smile. 

"  Children,  children  !  Woe,  how  you  do 
sin  ! "  Mrs.  Kavarsky  sermonized.  "  Come 
now,  obey  an  older  person.  Whoever  takes 
notice  of  such  trifles?  You  have  had  a 
quarrel  ?  ull  right !  And  now  make  peace. 
Have  an  embrace  and  a  good  kiss  and  dots 
ull!  Hurry  yup,  Mr.  Podkovnik  !  Don't 
be  ashamed ! "  she  beckoned  to  him,  her 
countenance  wreathed  in  voluptuous  smiles 
in  anticipation  of  the  love  scene  about  to  en- 
act itself  before  her  eyes.  Mr.  Podkovnik 
failing  to  hurry  up,  however,  she  went  on 
disappointedly:  "Why,  Mr.  Podkovnik! 
Look  at  the  boy  the  Uppermost  has  given 
you.  Would  he  might  send  me  one  like 
him.  Really,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
yourself." 

"  Vot  you  kickin'  aboyt,  anyhoy  ?  "  Jake 
suddenly  fired  out,  in  English.  "  Min'  jou 


152  YEKL. 

on  businesh  an'  dot'sh  ull,"  he  added  indig- 
nantly, averting  his  head. 

Mrs.  Kavarsky  grew  as   red  as  a  boiled 
lobster. 

"Vo— vo— vot  you   keeck   aboyt?"  she 
panted,  drawing  herself  up  and  putting  her 
arms  akimbo.     "  He  must  think  I,  too,  can 
be  scared  by  his  English.     I  declare  my  shirt 
/has  turned  linen  for  fright !     I  was  in  Amer- 
j  ica  while  you  were  hauling  away  at  the  bel- 
lows in  Povodye  ;  do  you  know  it  ?  " 

"Are  you  going  out  of  my  house  or 
not  ?  "  roared  Jake,  jumping  to  his  feet. 

"And  if  I  am  not,  what  will  you  do? 
Will  you  call  a  politzman  f  Ull  right,  do. 
That  is  just  what  I  want.  I  shall  tell  him  I 
can  not  leave  her  alone  with  a  murderer  like 
you,  for  fear  you  might  kill  her  and  the  boy, 
so  that  you  might  dawdle  around  with  that 
Polish  wench  of  yours.  Here  you  have  it ! " 
Saying  which,  she  put  her  thumb  between 
her  index  and  third  finger — the  Russian 
version  of  the  well-known  gesture  of  con- 
tempt —  presenting  it  to  her  adversary 


MRS.  KAVARSKY'S  COUP  D'ETAT.  ^3 

together    with    a  generous  portion   of   her 
tongue. 

Jake's  first  impulse  was  to  strike  the 
meddlesome  woman.  As  he  started  toward 
her,  however,  he  changed  his  mind.  "Alia 
right,  you  may  remain  with  her!"  he  said, 
rushing  up  to  the  clothes  rack,  and  slipping 
on  his  coat  and  hat  "Alia  right?  he  re- 
peated with  broken  breath,  "we  shall  see!" 
And  with  a  frantic  bang  of  the  door  he  dis- 
appeared. 

The  fresh  autumn  air  of  the  street  at 
once  produced  its  salutary  effect  on  his  over- 
excited nerves.  As  he  grew  more  collected 
he  felt  himself  in  a  most  awkward  muddle. 
He  cursed  his  outbreak  of  temper,  and 
wished  the  next  few  days  were  over  and  the 
breach  healed.  In  his  abject  misery  he 
thought  of  suicide,  of  fleeing  to  Chicago  or 
St.  Louis,  all  of  which  passed  through  his 
mind  in  a  stream  of  the  most  irrelevant  and 
the  most  frivolous  reminiscences.  He  was 
burning  to  go  back,  but  the  nerve  failing 


154  YEKL. 

him  to  face  Mrs.  Kavarsky,  he  wondered 
where  he  was  going  to  pass  the  night.  It 
was  too  cold  to  be  tramping  about  till  it  was 
time  to  go  to  work,  and  he  had  not  change 
enough  to  pay  for  a  night's  rest  in  a  lodging 
house ;  so  in  his  despair  he  fulminated 
against  Gitl  and,  above  all,  against  her  tu- 
toress. Having  passed  as  far  as  the  limits 
of  the  Ghetto  he  took  a  homeward  course 
by  a  parallel  street,  knowing  all  the  while 
.that  he  would  lack  the  courage  to  enter  his 
house.  When  he  came  within  sight  of  it  he 
again  turned  back,  yearningly  thinking  of 
the  cosey  little  home  behind  him,  and  invok- 
ing maledictions  upon  Gitl  for  enjoying  it 
now  while  he  was  exposed  to  the  chill  air 
without  the  prospect  of  shelter  for  the  night. 
As  he  thus  sauntered  reluctantly  about  he 
meditated  upon  the  scenes  coming  in  his 
way,  and  upon  the  thousand  and  one  things 
which  they  brought  to  his  mind.  At  the 
same  time  his  heart  was  thirsting  for  Mamie, 
and  he  felt  himself  a  wretched  outcast,  the 
target  of  ridicule — a  martyr  paying  the  pen- 


MRS.  KAVARSKY'S  COUP  D'ETAT.  155 

alty  of  sins,  which  he  faHed  to  recognise  as 
sins,  or  of  which,  at  any  rate,  he  could  not 
hold  himself  culpable. 

Yes,  he  will  go  to  Chicago,  or  to  Balti- 
more, or,  better  still,  to  England.  He  pic- 
tured to  himself  the  sensation  it  would  pro- 
duce and  Gitl's  despair.  "It  will  serve  her 
right.  What  does  she  want  of  me  ?  "  he  said 
to  himself,  revelling  in  a  sense  of  revenge. 
But  then  it  was  such  a  pity  to  part  with 
Joey !  Whereupon,  in  his  reverie,  Jake  be- 
held himself  stealing  into  his  house  in  the 
dead  of  night,  and  kidnapping  the  boy. 
And  what  would  Mamie  say?  Would  she 
not  be  sorry  to  have  him  disappear?  Can 
it  be  that  she  does  not  care  for  him  any 
longer  ?  She  seemed  to.  But  that  was  be- 
fore she  knew  him  to  be  a  married  man. 
And  again  his  heart  uttered  curses  against 
Gitl.  Ah,  if  Mamie  did  still  care  for  him, 
and  fainted  upon  hearing  of  his  flight,  and 
then  could  not  sleep,  and  ran  around  wring- 
ing her  hands  and  raving  like  mad!  It 
would  serve  her  right,  too !  She  should 


I56  YEKL. 

have  come  to  tell  him  she  loved  him  instead 
of  making  that  scene  at  his  house  and  tak- 
ing a  derisive  tone  with  him  upon  the  occa- 
sion of  his  visit  to  her.  Still,  should  she 
come  to  join  him  in  London,  he  would  re- 
ceive her,  he  decided  magnanimously.  They 
speak  English  in  London,  and  have  cloak 
.shops  like  here.  So  he  would  be  no  green- 
j  horn  there,  and  wouldn't  they  be  happy — he, 
Mamie,  and  little  Joey !  Or,  supposing  his 
wife  suddenly  died,  so  that  he  could  legally 

marry  Mamie  and  remain  in  New  York 

A  mad  desire  took  hold  of  him  to  see 
the  Polish  girl,  and  he  involuntarily  took  the 
way  to  her  lodging.  What  is  he  going  to 
say  to  her  ?  Well,  he  will  beg  her  not  to  be 
angry  for  his  failure  to  pay  his  debt,  take  her 
into  his  confidence  on  the  subject  of  his  pro- 
posed flight,  and  promise  to  send  her  every 
cent  from  London.  And  while  he  was  per- 
fectly aware  that  he  had  neither  the  money 
to  take  him  across  the  Atlantic  nor  the  heart 
to  forsake  Gitl  and  Joey,  and  that  Mamie 
would  never  let  him  leave  New  York  with- 


MRS.  KAVARSKY'S  COUP  D'^TATV  ^ 

out  paying  her  twenty-five  dollars,  he  started 
out  on  a  run  in  the  direction  of  Chrystie 
Street.  Would  she  might  offer  to  join  him 
in  his  flight !  She  must  have  money  enough 
for  two  passage  tickets,  the  rogue.  Wouldn't 
it  be  nice  to  be  with  her  on  the  steamer! 
he  thought,  as  he  wrathfully  brushed  apart  a 
group  of  street  urchins  impeding  his  way. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

A    HOUSETOP    IDYL. 

JAKE  found  Mamie  on  the  sidewalk  in 
front  of  the  tenement  house  where  she 
lodged.  As  he  came  rushing  up  to  her  side, 
she  was  pensively  rehearsing  a  waltz  step. 

"  Mamie,  come  shomeversh !  I  got  to 
shpeak  to  you  a  lot,"  he  gasped  out. 

"  Vot's  de  madder  ?  "  she  demanded,  star- 
tled by  his  excited  manner. 

"  This  is  not  the  place  for  speaking,"  he 
rejoined  vehemently,  in  Yiddish.  "  Let  us 
go  to  the  Grand  Street  dock  or  to  Seventh 
Street  park.  There  we  can  speak  so  that 
nobody  overhears  us." 

"  I  bet  you  he  is  going  to  ask  me  to  run 
away  with  him,"  she  prophesied  to  herself; 


A  HOUSETOP  IDYL.  i^g 

and  in  her  feverish  impatience  to  hear  him 
out  she  proposed  to  go  on  the  roof,  which, 
the  evening  being  cool,  she  knew  to  be  de- 
serted. 

When  they  reached  the  top  of  the  house 
they  found  it  overhung  with  rows  of  half- 
dried  linen,  held  together  with  wooden 
clothespins  and  trembling  to  the  fresh  au- 
tumn breeze.  Overhead,  fleecy  clouds  were 
floating  across  a  starry  blue  sky,  now  con- 
cealing and  now  exposing  to  view  a  pallid 
crescent  of  new  moon.  Coming  from  the 
street  below  there  was  a  muffled,  mysterious 
hum  ever  and  anon  drowned  in  the  clatter 
and  jingle  of  a  passing  horse  car.  A  lurid, 
exceedingly  uncanny  sort  of  idyl  it  was ;  and 
in  the  midst  of  it  there  was  something  ex- 
tremely weird  and  gruesome  in  those 
stretches  of  wavering,  fitfully  silvered  white, 
to  Jake's  overtaxed  mind  vaguely  suggesting 
the  burial  clothes  of  the  inmates  of  a  Jewish 
graveyard. 

After  picking  and  diving  their  way  be- 
neath the  trembling  lines  of  underwear,  pil- 


160  YEKL. 

lowcases,  sheets,  and  what  not,  they  paused 
in  front  of  a  tall  chimney  pot.  Jake,  in  a 
medley  of  superstitious  terror,  infatuation, 
and  bashfulness,  was  at  a  loss  how  to  begin 
and,  indeed,  what  to  say.  Feeling  that  it 
would  be  easy  for  him  to  break  into  tears  he 
instinctively  chose  this  as  the  only  way  out 
of  his  predicament. 

"  Vofs  de  madder ;  Jake  ?  Speak  out ! " 
she  said,  with  motherly  harshness. 

He  now  wished  to  say  something,  al- 
though he  still  knew  not  what ;  but  his  sobs 
once  called  into  play  were  past  his  control. 

"  She  must  give  you  trouble"  the  girl 
added  softly,  after  a  slight  pause,  her  excite- 
ment growing  with  every  moment. 

"Ach,  Mamield!"  he  at  length  exclaimed, 
resolutely  wiping  his  tears  with  his  handker- 
chief. "  My  life  has  become  so  dark  and  bit- 
ter to  me,  I  might  as  well  put  a  rope  around 
my  neck." 

"  Does  she  eat  you  ?  " 

"  Let  her  go  to  all  lamentations !  Some- 
body told  her  I  go  around  with  you." 


A   HOUSETOP  IDYL.  ifa 

"  But  you  know  it  is  a  lie  !  Some  one 
must  have  seen  us  the  other  evening  when 
we  were  standing  downstairs.  You  had 
better  not  come  here,  then.  When  you  have 
some  money,  you  will  send  it  to  me,"  she 
concluded,  between  genuine  sympathy  and 
an  intention  to  draw  him  out. 

"Ack,  don't  say  that,  Mamie.  What  is 
the  good  of  my  life  without  you?  I  don't 
sleep  nights.  Since  she  came  I  began  to 
understand  how  dear  you  are  to  me.  I  can 
not  tell  it  so  well,"  he  said,  pointing  to  his 
heart. 

"  Yes,  but  before  she  came  you  didn't 
care  for  me  ! "  she  declared,  labouring  to  dis- 
guise the  exultation  which  made  her  heart 
dance. 

"  I  always  did,  Mamie.  May  I  drop 
from  this  roof  and  break  hand  and  foot  if 
I  did  not." 

A  flood  of  wan  light  struck  Mamie  full 
in  her  swarthy  face,  suffusing  it  with  ivory 
effulgence,  out  of  which  her  deep  dark  eyes 
gleamed  with  a  kind  of  unearthly  lustre. 


1 62  YEKL. 

Jake  stood  enravished.  He  took  her  by  the 
hand,  but  she  instantly  withdrew  it,  edging 
away  a  step.  His  touch  somehow  restored 
her  to  calm  self-possession,  and  even  kindled 
a  certain  thirst  for  revenge  in  her  heart. 

"  It  is  not  what  it  used  to  be,  Jake,"  she 
said  in  tones  of  complaisant  earnestness. 
"  Now  that  I  know  you  are  a  married  man 
it  is  all  gone.  Yes,  Jake,  it  is  all  gone ! 
You  should  have  cared  for  me  when  she  was 
still  there.  Then  you  could  have  gone  to  a 
rabbi  and  sent  her  a  writ  of  divorce.  It  is 
too  late  now,  Jake." 

"  It  is  not  too  late  !  "  he  protested,  tremu- 
lously. "  I  will  get  a  divorce,  any  hoy.  And 
if  you  don't  take  me  I  will  hang  myself,"  he 
added,  imploringly. 

"  On  a  burned  straw  ?  "  she  retorted,  with 
a  cruel  chuckle. 

"It  is  all  very  well  for  you  to  laugh. 
But  if  you  could  enter  my  heart  and  see 
how  I  shuffer  !  " 

"  Woe  is  me  !  I  don't  see  how  you  will 
stand  it,"  she  mocked  him.  And  abruptly 


A  HOUSETOP  IDYL.  ^3 

assuming  a  grave  tone,  she  pursued  vehe- 
mently :  "  But  I  don't  understand  ;  since  you 
sent  her  tickets  and  money,  you  must  like 
her." 

Jake  explained  that  he  had  all  along 
intended  to  send  her  rabbinical  divorce  pa- 
pers instead  of  a  passage  ticket,  and  that  it 
had  been  his  old  mother  who  had  pestered 
him,  with  her  tear-stained  letters,  into  acting 
contrary  to  his  will. 

"All  right?    Mamie    resumed,   with   a  X 
dubious   smile  ;  "  but   why  don't  you  go  to  ^ 
Fanny,  or  Beckie,  or  Beilk6  the  "  Black  Cat "  ? 
You  used  to  care  for  them  more  than  for  \ 
me.     Why  should  you  just  come  to  me  ?  " 

Jake  answered  by  characterizing  the  girls  ^V1^ 
she  had  mentioned  in  terms  rather  too  high-  \J5 \  X 
scented  for  print,  protesting  his  loathing  for  \\^y 
them.     Whereupon   she  subjected  him  to  a     Jf^ 
rigid  cross-examination  as  to  his  past  con-    ^  <*jf 
duct  toward  herself  and  her  rivals ;  and  al-    *? 
though   he  managed  to  explain  matters  to 
her  inward  satisfaction,  owing,  chiefly,  to  a 
predisposition  on  her  own  part  to  credit  his 


1 64  YEKL. 

assertions  on  the  subject,  she  could  not  help 
continuing  obdurate  and  in  a  spiteful,  vin- 
dictive mood. 

"  All  you  say  is  not  worth  a  penny,  and 
it  is  too  late,  anyvay"  was  her  verdict. 
"  You  have  a  wife  and  a  child  ;  better  go 
home  and  be  a  father  to  your  boy?  Her 
last  words  were  uttered  with  some  approach 
to  sincerity,  and  she  was  mentally  beginning 
to  give  herself  credit  for  magnanimity  and 
pious  self-denial.  She  would  have  regretted 
her  exhortation,  however,  had  she  been 
aware  of  its  effect  on  her  listener ;  for  her 
mention  of  the  boy  and  appeal  to  Jake  as  a 
father  aroused  in  him  ajively  sense  of  the 
wrong  he  was  doing.  Moreover,  while  she 
was  speaking  his  attention  had  been  at- 
tracted to  a  loosened  pillowcase  ominously 
fluttering  and  flapping  a  yard  or  two  off. 
The  figure  of  his  dead  father,  attired  in  burial 
linen,  uprose  to  his  mind. 

"  You  don*  vanted  ?  Alia  right,  you  be 
shorry,"  he  said  half-heartedly,  turning  to  go. 

"  Hot  on  /  "  she  checked  him,  irritatedly. 


A  HOUSETOP  IDYL.  165 

"  How  are  you  going  to  fix  it  ?  Are  you 
sure  she  will  take  a  divorce  ?  " 

"  Will  she  have  a  choice  then  ?  She  will 
have  to  take  it.  I  won't  live  with  her  any- 
hoy?  he  replied,  his  passion  once  more  well- 
ing up  in  his  soul.  "  Mamie,  my  treasure, 
my  glory  ! "  he  exclaimed,  in  tremulous  ac- 
cents. "  Say  that  you  are  shatichfied ';  my 
heart  will  become  lighter."  Saying  which,  he 
strained  her  to  his  bosom,  and  fell  to  raining 
fervent  kisses  on  her  face.  At  first  she  made 
a  faint  attempt  at  freeing  herself,  and  then 
suddenly  clasping  him  with  mad  force  she 
pressed  her  lips  to  his  in  a  fury  of  passion. 

The  pillowcase  flapped  aloud,  ever  more 
sternly,  warningly,  portentously. 

Jake  cast  an  involuntary  side  glance  at  it. 
His  spell  of  passion  was  broken  and  sup- 
planted by  a  spell  of  benumbing  terror.  He 
had  an  impulse  to  withdraw  his  arms  from 
the  girl ;  but,  instead,  he  clung  to  her  all  the 
faster,  as  if  for  shelter  from  the  ghostlike 
thing. 

With  a  last  frantic  hug  Mamie  relaxed 


1 66  YEKL. 

her  hold.  "  Remember  now,  Jake ! "  she 
then  said,  in  a  queer  hollow  voice.  "  Now  it 
is  all  settled.  Maybe  you  are  making  fun  of 
me  ?  If  you  are,  you  are  playing  with  fire. 
Death  to  me — death  to  youj "  she  added, 
menacingly. 

He  wished  to  sav/^metfririg  tcTreassure 
her,  but  his  tong^eseemed  grown  fast  to  his 
palate. 

"  Am  I  to  blame  ?  "  she  continued  with 
ghastly  vehemence,  sobs  ringing  in  her  voice. 
"  Who  asked  you  to  come  ?  Did  I  lure  you 
from  her,  then  ?  I  should  sooner  have 
thrown  myself  into  the  river  than  taken 
away  somebody  else's  husband.  You  say 
yourself  that  you  would  not  live  with  her, 
anyvay.  But  now  it  is  all  gone.  Just  try 
to  leave  me  now  ! "  And  giving  vent  to  her 
tears,  she  added,  "  Do  you  think  my  heart 
is  no  heart  ?  " 

A  thrill  of  joyous  pity  shot  through  his 
frame.  Once  again  he  caught  her  to  his 
heart,  and  in  a  voice  quivering  with  tender- 
ness he  murmured  :  "  Don't  be  uneasy,  my 


A   HOUSETOP  IDYL.  ^7 

dear,  my  gold,  my  pearl,  my  consolation  !  I 
will  let  my  throat  be  cut,  into  fire  or  water 
will  I  go,  for  your  sake." 

"  Dot's  all  right,"  she  returned,  musingly. 
"  But  how  are  you  going  to  get  rid  of  her  ? 
You  von't  go  back  on  me,  vill  you  ? "  she 
asked  in  English. 

"  Me  f  May  I  not  be  able  to  get  away 
from  this  spot.  Can  it  be  that  you  still  dis- 
trust me  ?-" 

"  Swear ! " 

"  How  else  shall  I  swear  ?  " 

"  By  your  father,  peace  upon  him." 

"  May  my  father  as  surely  have  a  bright 
paradise,"  he  said,  with  a  show  of  alacrity,  his 
mind  fixed  on  the  loosened  pillowcase. 
"  Veil,  are  you  shatichfied  now  ?  " 

"  All  right,"  she  answered,  in  a  matter-of- 
fact  way,  and  as  if  only  half  satisfied.  "  But 
do  you  think  she  will  take  money  ?  " 

"  But  I  have  none." 

"  Nobody  asks  you  if  you  have.  But 
would  she  take  it,  if  you  had  ?  " 

"  If  I  had  !      I  am  sure  she  would  take 


1 68  YEKL. 

it ;  she  would  have  to,  for  what  would  she 
gain  if  she  did  not  ?  " 

"  Are  you  sure  f  " 

"  'F  cush  !  " 

"Ach,  but,  after  all,  why  did  you  not 
tell  me  you  liked  me  before  she  came  ?  "  she 
said  testily,  stamping  her  foot. 

"  Again  ! "  he  exclaimed,  wincing. 

"A II right;  wait." 

She  turned  to  go  somewhere,  but 
checked  herself,  and  facing  about,  she  ex- 
acted an  additional  oath  of  allegiance.  Af- 
ter which  she  went  to  the  other  side  of  the 
chimney.  When  she  returned  she  held  one 
of  her  arms  behind  her. 

"  You  will  not  let  yourself  be  talked 
away  from  me  ?  " 

He  swore. 

"  Not  even  if  your  father  came  to  you 
from  the  other  world — if  he  came  to  you  in  a 
dream,  I  mean — and  told  you  to  drop  me  ?  " 

Again  he  swore. 

"  And  you  really  don't  care  for  Fanny  ?  " 

And  again  he  swore. 


A  HOUSETOP  IDYL.  !6g 

11  Nor  for  Beckie  ?  " 

The  ordeal  was  too  much,  and  he  begged 
her  to  desist.  But  she  wouldn't,  and  so,  chaf- 
ing under  inexorable  cross-examinations,  he 
had  to  swear  again  and  again  that  he  had 
never  cared  for  any  of  Joe's  female  pupils  or 
assistants  except  Mamie. 

At  last  she  relented. 

"  Look,  piece  of  loafer  you ! "  she  then 
said,  holding  out  an  open  bank  book  to  his 
eyes.  "  But  what  is  the  use  ?  It  is  not 
light  enough,  and  you  can  not  read,  anyvay. 
You  can  eat,  dofs  all.  Veil,  you  could 
make  out  figures,  couldn't  you  ?  There  are 
three  hundred  and  forty  dollars,"  she  pro- 
ceeded, pointing  to  the  balance  line,  which 
represented  the  savings,  for  a  marriage  por- 
tion, of  five  years'  hard  toil.  "  It  should  be 
three  hundred  and  sixty-five,  but  then  for 
the  twenty-five  dollars  you  owe  me  I  may 
as  well  light  a  mourner's  candle,  airi  it  f  " 

When  she  had  started  to  produce  the 
bank  book  from  her  bosom  he  had  surmised 
her  intent,  and  while  she  was  gone  he  was 


1 70  YEKL. 

making  guesses  as  to  the  magnitude  of  the 
sum  to  her  credit.  His  most  liberal  esti- 
mate, however,  had  been  a  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars ;  so  that  the  revelation  of  the 
actual  figure  completely  overwhelmed  him. 
He  listened  to  her  with  a  broad  grin,  and 
when  she  paused  he  burst  out : 

"  Mamiele',  you  know  what  ?  Let  us  run 
away ! " 

* .  "  You  are  a  fool ! "  she  overruled  him, 
as  she  tucked  the  bank  book  under  her 
jacket.  "  I  have  a  better  plan.  But  tell 
me  the  truth,  did  you  not  guess  I  had 
money  ?  Now  you  need  not  fear  to  tell  me 
all." 

He  swore  that  he  had  not  even  dreamt 
that  she  possessed  a  bank  account.  How 
could  he  ?  And  was  it  not  because  he  had 
suspected  the  existence  of  such  an  account 
that  he  had  come  to  declare  his  love  to  her 
and  not  to  Fanny,  or  Beckie,  or  the  "  Black 
Cat "  ?  No,  may  he  be  thunderstruck  if  it 
was.  What  does  she  take  him  for  ?  On  his 
part  she  is  free  to  give  the  money  away  or 


A  HOUSETOP  IDYL.  ^j 

throw  it  into  the  river.  He  will  become  a 
boss,  and  take  her  penniless,  for  he  can  not 
live  without  her ;  she  is  lodged  in  his  heart ; 
she  is  the  only  woman  he  ever  cared  for. 

"  Oh,  but  why  did  you  not  tell  me  all  this 
long  ago  ?  "  With  which,  speaking  like  the 
complete  mistress  of  the  situation  that  she 
was,  she  proceeded  to  expound  a  project, 
which  had  shaped  itself  in  her  lovelorn 
mind,  hypothetically,  during  the  previous 
few  days,  when  she  had  been  writhing  in  de- 
spair of  ever  having  an  occasion  to  put  it 
into  practice.  Jake  was  to  take  refuge  with 
her  married  sister  in  Philadelphia  until  Gitl 
was  brought  to  terms.  In  the  meantime 
some  chum  of  his,  nominated  by  Mamie  and 
acting  under  her  orders,  would  carry  on  ne- 
gotiations. The  State  divorce,  as  she  had  al- 
ready taken  pains  'to  ascertain,  would  cost 
fifty  dollars;  the  rabbinical  divorce  would 
take  five  or  eight  dollars  more.  Two  hun- 
dred dollars  would  be  deposited  with  some 
Canal  Street  banker,  to  be  paid  to  Gitl  when 
the  whole  procedure  was  brought  to  a  sue- 


i;2  YEKL. 

cessful  termination,  If  she  can  be  got  to 
accept  less,  so  much  the  better;  if  not,  Jake 
and  Mamie  will  get  along,  anyhow.  When 
they  are  married  they  will  open  a  dancing 
school. 

To  all  of  which  Jake  kept  nodding  ap- 
proval, once  or  twice  interrupting  her  with  a 
demonstration  of  enthusiasm.  As  to  the 
fate  of  his  boy,  Mamie  deliberately  circum- 
vented all  reference  to  the  subject.  Several 
times  Jake  was  tempted  to  declare  his  ar- 
dent desire  to  have  the  child  with  them,  and 
that  Mamie  should  like  him  and  be  a  mother 
to  him  ;  for  had  she  not  herself  found  him  a 
bright  and  nice  fellow  ?  His  heart  bled  at 
the  thought  of  having  to  part  with  Joey. 
But  somehow  the  courage  failed  him  to 
touch  upon  the  question.  He  saw  himself 
helplessly  entangled  in  something  foreboding 
no  good.  He  felt  between  the  devil  and  the 
deep  sea,  as  the  phrase  goes ;  and  unnerved 
by  the  whole  situation  and  completely  in  the 
shop  girl's  power,  he  was  glad  to  be  relieved 
from  all  initiative — whether  forward  or  back- 


A  HOUSETOP  IDYL.  173 

ward — to  shut  his  eyes,  as  it  were,  and,  lean- 
ing upon  Mamie's  strong  arm,  let  himself  be 
led  by  her  in  whatever  direction  she  chose. 

"  Do  you  know,  Jake  ? — now  I  may  as 
well  tell  you,"  the  girl  pursued,  ^  propos  of 
the  prospective  dancing  school ;  "  do  you 
know  that  Joe  has  been  bodering  me  to 
marry  him  ?  And  he  did  not  know  I  had  a 
cent,  either." 

"An  you  didri  vanted?"  Jake  asked, 
joyfully. 

"  Sure  /  I  knew  all  along  Jakie  was  my 
predestined  match,"  she  replied,  drawing  his 
bulky  head  to  her  lips.  And  following  the 
operation  by  a  sound  twirl  of  his  ear,  she 
added:  "Only  he  is  a  great  lump  of  hog, 
Jakie  is.  But  a  heart  is  a  clock :  it  told  me 
I  would  have  you  some  day.  I  could  have 
got  lots  of  suitors — may  the  two  of  us  have 
as  many  thousands  of  dollars — and  business 
people,  too.  Do  you  see  what  I  am  doing 
for  you  ?  Do  you  deserve  it,  monkey  you  ?  " 

"  Never  mm\  you  shall  see  what  a  dansh- 
zri  shchool  I  shtctt.  If  I  don't  take  away 


1/4  YEKL. 

every  shcholar  from  Jaw,  my  name  won't  be 
Jake.  Won't  he  squirm  ! "  he  exclaimed,  with 
childish  ardour. 

"  Dot's  all  right ;  but  foist  min'  dot  you 
don'  go  back  on  me  ! " 

An  hour  or  two  later  Mamie  with  Jake 
by  her  side  stood  in  front  of  the  little  win- 
dow in  the  ferryhouse  of  the  Pennsylvania 
Railroad,  buying  one  ticket  for  the  midnight 
train  for  Philadelphia. 

"  Min'  je,  Jake,"  she  said  anxiously  a  lit- 
tle after,  as  she  handed  him  the  ticket. 
"  This  is  as  good  as  a  marriage  certificate,  do 
you  understand?"  And  the  two  hurried  off 
to  the  boat  in  a  meagre  stream  of  other  pas- 
sengers. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    PARTING. 

IT  was  on  a  bright  frosty  morning  in  the 
following  January,  in  the  kitchen  of  Rabbi 
Aaronovitz,  on  the  third  floor  of  a  rickety 
old  tenement  house,  that  Jake  and  Gitl,  for 
the  first  time  since  his  flight,  came  face  to 
face.  It  was  also  to  be  their  last  meeting  as 
husband  and  wife. 

The  low-ceiled  room  was  fairly  crowded 
with  men  and  women.  Besides  the  princi- 
pal actors  in  the  scene,  the  rabbi,  the  scribe, 
and  the  witnesses,  and,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
Mrs.  Kavarsky,  there  was  the  rabbi's  wife, 
their  two  children,  and  an  envoy  from  Ma- 
mie, charged  to  look  after  the  fortitude  of 
Jake's  nerve.  Gitl,  extremely  careworn  and 

175 


1 76  YEKL. 

haggard,  was  "  in  her  own  hair,"  thatched 
with  a  broad-brimmed  winter  hat  of  a  brown 
colour,  and  in  a  jacket  of  black  beaver.  The 
rustic,  "  greenhornlike  "  expression  was  com- 
pletely gone  from  her  face  and  manner,  and, 
although  she  now  looked  bewildered  and  as 
if  terror-stricken,  there  was  noticeable  about 
her  a  suggestion  of  that  peculiar  air  of  self- 
confidence  with  which  a  few  months'  life  in 
America  is  sure  to  stamp  the  looks  and  bear- 
ing of  every  immigrant.  Jake,  flushed  and 
plainly  nervous  and  fidgety,  made  repeated 
attempts  to  conceal  his  state  of  mind  now 
by  screwing  up  a  grim  face,  now  by  giving 
his  enormous  head  a  haughty  posture,  now 
by  talking  aloud  to  his  escort. 

The  tedious  preliminaries  were  as  trying 
to  the  rabbi  as  they  were  to  Jake  and  Gitl. 
However,  the  venerable  old  man  discharged 
his  duty  of  dissuading  the  young  couple  from 
their  contemplated  step  as  scrupulously  a? 
he  dared  in  view  of  his  wife's  signals  to  de- 
sist and  not  to  risk  the  fee.  Gitl,  prompted 
by  Mrs.  Kavarsky,  responded  to  all  ques- 


THE  PARTING.  !77 

tions  with  an  air  of  dazed  resignation,  while 
Jake,  ever  conscious  of  his  guard's  glance, 
gave  his  answers  with  bravado.  At  last  the 
scribe,  a  gaunt  middle-aged  man,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  countenance  at  once  devout  and 
businesslike,  set  about  his  task.  Where- 
upon Mrs.  Aaronovitz  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief, 
and  forthwith  banished  her  two  boys  into 
the  parlour. 

An  imposing  stillness  fell  over  the  room. 
Little  by  little,  however,  it  was  broken,  at 
first  by  whispers  and  then  by  an  unrestrained 
hum.  The  rabbi,  in  a  velvet  skullcap,  faded 
and  besprinkled  with  down,  presided  with 
pious  dignity,  though  apparently  ill  at  ease, 
at  the  head  of  the  table.  Alternately  strok- 
ing his  yellowish-gray  beard  and  curling  his 
scanty  side  locks,  he  kept  his  eyes  on  the 
open  book  before  him,  now  and  then  stealing 
a  glance  at  the  other  end  of  the  table,  where 
the  scribe  was  rapturously  drawing  the 
square  characters  of  the  holy  tongue. 

Gitl  carefully  looked  away  from  Jake. 
But  he  invincibly  haunted  her  mind,  render- 


1 78  YEKL. 

ing  her  deaf  to  Mrs.  Kavarsky's  incessant 
buzz.  His  presence  terrified  her,  and  at  the 
same  time  it  melted  her  soul  in  a  fire,  tortur- 
ing yet  sweet,  which  impelled  her  at  one  mo- 
ment to  throw  herself  upon  him  and  scratch 
out  his  eyes,  and  at  another  to  prostrate  her- 
self at  his  feet  and  kiss  them  in  a  flood  of 
tears. 

Jake,  on  the  other  hand,  eyed  Gitl  quite 
frequently,  with  a  kind  of  malicious  curiosity. 
Her  general  Americanized  make  up,  and, 
above  all,  that  broad-brimmed,  rather  fussy, 
hat  of  hers,  nettled  him.  It  seemed  to  defy 
him,  and  as  if  devised  for  that  express  pur- 
pose. Every  time  she  and  her  adviser  caught 
his  eye,  a  feeling  of  devouring  hate  for  both 
would  rise  in  his  heart.  He  was  panting  to 
see  his  son;  and,  while  he  was  thoroughly 
alive  to  the  impossibility  of  making  a  child 
the  witness  of  a  divorce  scene  between  father 
and  mother,  yet,  in  his  fury,  he  interpreted 
their  failure  to  bring  Joey  with  them  as  an- 
other piece  of  malice. 

"  Ready  ! "  the  scribe  at  length  called  out, 


THE  PARTfxVG.  iyg 

getting  up  with  the  document  in  his  hand, 
and  turning  it  over  to  the  rabbi. 

The  rest  of  the  assemblage  also  rose  from 
their  seats,  and  clustered  round  Jake  and 
Gitl,  who  had  taken  places  on  either  side  of 
the  old  man.  A  beam  of  hard,  cold  sunlight, 
filtering  in  through  a  grimy  window-pane 
and  falling  lurid  upon  the  rabbi's  wrinkled 
brow,  enhanced  the  impressiveness  of  the 
spectacle.  A  momentary  pause  ensued, 
stern,  weird,  and  casting  a  spell  of  awe  over 
most  of  the  bystanders,  not  excluding  the 
rabbi.  Mrs.  Kavarsky  even  gave  a  shudder 
and  gulped  down  a  sob. 

"  Young  woman ! "  Rabbi  Aaronovitz  be- 
gan, with  bashful  serenity,  "  here  is  the  writ 
of  divorce  all  ready.  Now  thou  mayst  still 
change  thy  mind." 

Mrs.  Aaronovitz  anxiously  watched  Gitl, 
who  answered  by  a  shake  of  her  head. 

"  Mind  thee,  I  tell  thee  once  again,"  the 
old  man  pursued,  gently.  "Thou  must  ac- 
cept this  divorce  with  the  same  free  will  and 
readiness  with  which  thou  hast  married  thy 


1 80  YEKL. 

husband.  Should  there  be  the  slightest  ob- 
jection hidden  in  thy  heart,  the  divorce  is 
null  and  void.  Dost  thou  understand  ?  " 

"  Say  that  you  are  saresfied"  whispered 
Mrs.  Kavarsky. 

11  Ull  ride,  I  am  salesjlet"  murmured  Gitl, 
looking  down  on  the  table. 

"  Witnesses,  hear  ye  what  this  young 
woman  says  ?  That  she  accepts  the  divorce 
of  her  own  free  will,"  the  rabbi  exclaimed 
solemnly,  as  if  reading  the  Talmud. 

"Then  I  must  also  tell  you  once  more," 
he  then  addressed  himself  to  Jake  as  well 
as  to  Gitl,  "that  this  divorce  is  good  only 
upon  condition  that  you  are  also  divorced  by 
the  Government  of  the  land — by  the  court — 
do  you  understand  ?  So  it  stands  written  in 
the  separate  paper  which  you  get.  Do  you 
understand  what  I  say  ?  " 

"Dotsh  alia  right?  Jake  said,  with  os- 
tentatious ease  of  manner.  "  I  have  already 
told  you  that  the  dvosh  of  the  court  is  al- 
ready fikshcd,  haven't  I  ? "  he  added,  even 
angrily. 


THE  PARTING.  !8i 

Now  came  the  culminating  act  of  the 
drama.  Gitl  was  affectionately  urged  to 
hold  out  her  hands,  bringing  them  together 
at  an  angle,  so  as  to  form  a  receptacle  for  the 
fateful  piece  of  paper.  -  She  obeyed  mechan- 
ically, her  cheeks  turning  ghastly  pale.  Jake, 
also  pale  to  his  lips,  his  brows  contracted,  re- 
ceived the  paper,  and  obeying  directions,  ap- 
proached the  woman  who  in  the  eye  of  the 
Law  of  Moses  was  still  his  wife.  And  then, 
repeating  word  for  word  after  the  rabbi,  he 
said : 

"  Here  is  thy  divorce.  Take  thy  divorce. 
And  by  this  divorce  thou  art  separated  from 
me  and  free  for  all  other  men  ! " 

Gitl  scarcely  understood  the  meaning  of 
the  formula,  though  each  Hebrew  word  was 
followed  by  its  Yiddish  translation.  Her 
arms  shook  so  that  they  had  to  be  supported 
by  Mrs.  Kavarsky  and  by  one  of  the  wit- 
nesses. 

At  last  Jake  deposited  the  writ  and  in- 
stantly drew  back. 

Gitl  closed  her  hands  upon  the  paper  as 


1 82  YEKL. 

she  had  been  instructed;  but  at  the  same 
moment  she  gave  a  violent  tremble,  and  with 
a  heartrending  groan  fell  on  the  witness  in 
a  fainting  swoon. 

In  the  ensuing  commotion  Jake  slipped 
out  of  the  room,  presently  followed  by  Ma- 
mie's ambassador,  who  had  remained  behind 
to  pay  the  bill. 

Gitl  was  soon  brought  to  by  Mrs.  Ka- 
varsky  and  the  mistress  of  the  house.  For 
a  moment  or  so  she  sat  staring  about  her, 
when,  suddenly  awakening  to  the  meaning 
of  the  ordeal  she  had  just  been  through,  and 
finding  Jake  gone,  she  clapped  her  hands  and 
burst  into  a  fit  of  sobbing. 

Meanwhile  the  rabbi  had  once  again  pe- 
rused the  writ,  and  having  caused  the  wit- 
nesses to  do  likewise,  he  made  two  diagonal 
slits  in  the  paper. 

"  You  must  not  forget,  my  daughter,"  he 
said  to  the  young  woman,  who  was  at  that 
moment  crying  as  if  her  heart  would  break, 
"  that  you  dare  not  marry  again  before  nine- 


THE   PARTING.  ,33 

ty-one  days,  counting   from  to-day,  go   by; 

I  while  you — where  is  he,  the  young  man  ? 
Gone  ?  "  he  asked  with  a  frustrated  smile  and 
growing  pale. 

"You  want  him  badly,  don't  you?" 
growled  Mrs.  Kavarsky.  "  Let  him  go  I 
know  where,  the  every-evil-in-him  that  he 
is!" 

Mrs.  Aaronovitz  telegraphing  to  her  hus- 

f  band  that  the  money  was  safe  in  her  pocket, 
he  remarked  sheepishly  :  "  He  may  wed  even 

/  to-day."  Whereupon  Gitl's  sobs  became  still 
more  violent,  and  she  fell  to  nodding  her 
head  and  wringing  her  hands. 

"  What  are  you  crying  about,  foolish  face 
that  you  are!"  Mrs.  Kavarsky  fired  out 
"Another  woman  would  thank  God  for  hav- 
ing at  last  got  rid  of  the  lump  of  leavened 
bread.  What  say  you,  rabbi  ?  A  rowdy,  a 
sinner  of  Israel,  a  regely  loifer,  may  no  good 
Jew  know  him  !  Never  min,  the  Name,  be 
It  blessed,  will  send  you  your  destined  one, 
and  a  fine,  learned,  respectable  man,  too,"  she 
added  significantly. 


1 84  YEKL. 

Her  words  had  an  instantaneous  effect. 
Gitl  at  once  composed  herself,  and  fell  to 
drying  her  eyes. 

Quick  to  catch  Mrs.  Kavarsky's  hint,  the 
rabbi's  wife  took  her  aside  and  asked  eagerly : 

"  Why,  has  she  got  a  suitor  ?  " 

"  What  is  the  differentz  ?  You  need  not 
fear ;  when  there  is  a  wedding  canopy  I  shall 
employ  no  other  man  than  your  husband," 
was  Mrs.  Kavarsky's  self-important  but  good- 
natured  reply. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A    DEFEATED    VICTOR. 

WHEN  Gitl,  accompanied  by  her  friend, 
reached  home,  they  were  followed  into  the 
former's  apartments  by  a  batch  of  neigh- 
bours, one  of  them  with  Joey  in  tow.  The 
moment  the  young  woman  found  herself  in 
her  kitchen  she  collapsed,  sinking  down  on 
the  lounge.  The  room  seemed  to  have  as- 
sumed a  novel  aspect,  which  brought  home 
to  her  afresh  that  the  bond  between  her  and 
Jake  was  now  at  last  broken  forever  and  be- 
yond repair.  The  appalling  fact  was  still  fur- 
ther accentuated  in  her  consciousness  when 
she  caught  sight  of  the  boy. 

"  Joeyele !  Joeyinke"  !  Birdie  !  Little  kit- 
ten!"— with  which  she  seized  him  in  her 

185 


1 86  YEKL. 

arms,  and,  kissing  him  all  over,  burst  into 
tears.  Then  shaking  with  the  child  back- 
ward and  forward,  and  intoning  her  words  as 
Jewish  women  do  over  a  grave,  she  went  on : 
"  Ai,  you  have  no  papa  any  more,  Joeyele" ! 
Yosele",  little  crown,  you  will  never  see  him 
again  !  He  is  dead,  taU  is  ! "  Whereupon 
Yosele",  following  his  mother's  example,  let 
loose  his  stentorian  voice. 

"  Shurr-r  up  / "  Mrs.  Kavarsky  whis- 
pered, stamping  her  foot.  "  You  want  Mr. 
Bernstein  to  leave  you,  too,  do  you  ?  No 
more  is  wanted  than  that  he  should  get  wind 
of  your  crying." 

41  Nobody  will  tell  him,"  one  of  the  neigh- 
bours put  in,  resentfully.  "  But,  anyhull, 
what  is  the  used  crying  ?  " 

"  Ask  her,  the  piece  of  hunchback  !  "  said 
Mrs.  Kavarsky.  "Another  woman  would 
dance  for  joy,  and  here  she  is  whining,  the 
cudgel.  What  is  it  you  are  snivelling  about  ? 
That  you  have  got  rid  of  an  unclean  bone 
and  a  dunce,  and  that  you  are  going  to 
marry  a  young  man  of  silk  who  is  fit  to  be  a 


A  DEFEATED  VICTOR.  jgpr 

rabbi,  and  is  as  smart  and  ejecate  as  a  lawyer  ? 
You  would  have  got  a  match  like  that  in 
Povodye,  would  you  ?  I  dare  say  a  man  like 
Mr.  Bernstein  would  not  have  spoken  to  you 
there.  You  ought  to  say  Psalms  for  your 
coming  to  America.  It  is  only  here  that  it 
is  possible  for  a  blacksmith's  wife  to  marry 
a  learned  man,  who  is  a  blessing  both  for 
God  and  people.  And  yet  you  are  not 
saresfied 7  Cry  away  !  If  Bernstein  refuses 
to  go  under  the  wedding  canopy,  Mrs. 
Kavarsky  will  no  more  dodder  her  head 
about  you,  depend  upon  it.  It  is  not 
enough  for  her  that  I  neglect  business  on  her 
account,"  she  appealed  to  the  bystanders. 

"  Really,  what  are  you  crying  about,  Mrs. 
Podkovnik  ?  "  one  of  the  neighbours  inter- 
posed. "  You  ought  to  bless  the  hour  when 
you  became  free." 

All  of  which  haranguing  only  served  to 
stimulate  Gitl's  demonstration  of  grief. 
Having  let  down  the  boy,  she  went  on  clap- 
ping her  hands,  swaying  in  all  directions,  and 
wailing. 


1 88  YEKL. 

The  truth  must  be  told,  however,  that 
she  was  now  continuing  her  lamentations  by 
the  mere  force  of  inertia,  and  as  if  enjoying 
the  very  process  of  the  thing.  For,  indeed, 
at  the  bottom  of  her  heart  she  felt  herself  far 
from  desolate,  being  conscious  of  the  exist- 
ence of  a  man  who  was  to  take  care  of  her 
and  her  child,  and  even  relishing  the  pros- 
pect of  the  new  life  in  store  for  her.  Al- 
ready on  her  way  from  the  rabbi's  house, 
while  her  soul  was  full  of  Jake  and  the  Po- 
lish girl,  there  had  fluttered  through  her  im- 
agination a  picture  of  the  grocery  business 
which  she  and  Bernstein  were  to  start  with 
the  money  paid  to  her  by  Jake. 

4          

While  Gitl  thus  sat  swaying  and  wring- 
ing her  hands,  Jake,  Mamie,  her  emissary  at 
the  divorce  proceeding,  and  another  mutual 
friend,  were  passengers  on  a  Third  Avenue 
cable  car,  all  bound  for  the  mayor's  office. 
While  Gitl  was  indulging  herself  in  an  exhi- 
bition of  grief,  her  recent  husband  was  flaunt- 
ing a  hilarious  mood.  He  did  feel  a  great 


A  .DEFEATED  VICTOR.  ,gg 

burden  to  have  rolled  off  his  heart,  and  the 
proximity  of  Mamie,  on  the  other  hand,  ca- 
ressed his  soul.  He  was  tempted  to  catch 
her  in  his  arms,  and  cover  her  glowing  cheeks 
with  kisses.  But  in  his  inmost  heart  he.  was 
the  reverse  of  eager  to  reach  the  City  Hall. 
He  was  painfully  reluctant  to  part  with  his 
long-coveted  freedom  so  soon  after  it  had  at 
last  been  attained,  and  before  he  had  had  time 
to  relish  it.  Still  worse  than  this  thirst  for  a 
taste  of  liberty  was  a  feeling  which  was  now 
gaining  upon  him,  that,  instead  of  a  con- 
queror, he  had  emerged  from  the  rabbi's 
house  the  victim  of  an  ignominious  defeat 
If  he  could  now  have  seen  Gitl  in  her  par-, 
oxysm  of  anguish,  his  heart  would  perhaps 
have  swelled  with  a  sense  of  his  triumph,  and- 
Mamie  would  have  appeared  to  him  the  em- 
bodiment of  his  future  happiness.  Instead 
of  this  he  beheld  her,  Bernstein,  Yosele",  and 
Mrs.  Kavarsky  celebrating  their  victory  and 
bandying  jokes  at  his  expense.  Their  future 
seemed  bright  with  Joy,  while  his  own 
loomed  dark  and  impenetrable.  What  if  he 


*• 
». 


190  YEKL. 

should  now  dash  into  Gitl's  apartments  and, 
declaring  his  authority  as  husband,  father, 
and  lord  of  the  house,  fiercely  eject  the  stran- 
gers, take  Yosele"  in  his  arms,  and  sternly 
command  Gitl  to  mind  her  household 
duties  ? 

But  the  distance  between  him  and  the 
mayor's  office  was  dwindling  fast.  Each 
time  the  car  came  to  a  halt  he  wished  the 
pause  could  be  prolonged  indefinitely ;  and 
when  it  resumed  its  progress,  the  violent 
lurch  it  gave  was  accompanied  by  a  corre- 
sponding sensation  in  his  heart. 


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D.   APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

GILBERT   PARKER'S   BEST   BOOKS. 

rlE  SEATS  OF  THE  MIGHTY.  Being  the 
Memoirs  of  Captain  ROBERT  MORAY,  sometime  an  Officer  in 
the  Virginia  Regiment,  and  afterwards  of  Amherst's  Regiment. 
I2mo.  Cloth,  illustrated,  $1.50. 

"  Another  historical  romance  of  the  vividness  and  intensity  of  '  The  Seats  of  the 
Mighty'  has  never  come  from  the  pen  of  an  American.  Mr.  Parker's  latest  work  may, 
without  hesitation,  be  set  down  as  the  best  he  has  done.  From  the  first  chapter  to  the 
last  word  interest  in  the  book  never  wanes ;  one  finds  it  difficult  to  interrupt  the  narra- 
tive with  breathing  space.  It  whirls  with  excitement  and  strange  adventure.  ...  All 
of  the  scenes  do  homage  to  the  genius  of  Mr.  Parker,  and  make  'The  Seats  of  the 
Mighty'  one  of  the  books  of  the  year." — Chicago  Record. 

"  Mr.  Gilbert  Parker  is  to  be  congratulated  on  the  excellence  of  his  latest  story, 
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which  his  talents  have  taken  therein.  .  .  .  It  is  so  good  that  we  do  not  stop  to  think  of 
its  literature,  and  the  personality  of  Doltaire  is  a  masterpiece  of  creative  art."— Nevi 
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HE    TRAIL    OF    THE    SWORD.       A   Novel. 
I2mo.     Paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  Mr.  Parker  here  adds  to  a  reputation  already  wide,  and  anew  demonstrates  his 
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fhia  Bulletin. 

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HE    TRESPASSER.      i2mo.      Paper,  50   cepts ; 
cloth,  $1.00. 

"  Interest,  pith,  force,  and  charm — Mr.  Parker's  new  story  possesses  all  these 
qualities.  .  .  .  Almost  bare  of  synthetical  decoration,  his  paragraphs  are  stirring  be- 
cause they  are  real.  We  read  at  times— as  we  have  read  the  great  masters  of 'romance 
— breathlessly." — The  Critic. 

"Gilbert  Parker  writes  a  strong  novel,  but  thus  far  this  is  his  masterpiece.  .  .  . 
It  is  one  of  the  great  novels  of  the  year." — Boston  Advertiser. 


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HE  TRANSLATION  OF  A  SAVAGE.     i6mo. 
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Boston  Home  Journal. 

"  The  perusal  of  this  romance  will  repay  those  who  care  for  new  and  original  types 
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— London  Daily  News. 


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BY   S.   R.   CROCKETT. 

CLEG  KELLY,  ARAB  OF  THE  CITY.  His 
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net "  and  "  Bog-Myrtle  and  Peat."  Illustrated.  I2mo.  Cloth, 
$1.50. 

'.« A  masterpiece  which  Mark  Twain  himself  has  never  rivaled.  ...  If  there  ever 
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Chronicle. 

"  In  no  one  of  his  books  does  Mr.  Crockett  give  us  a  brighter  or  more  graphic 
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books."— Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

"One  of  the  most  successful  of  Mr.  Crockett's  works." — Brooklyn  Eagle. 


DOG-MYRTLE    AND    PEAT.      Third     edition. 
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"Here  are  idyls,  epics,  dramas  of  human  life,  written  in  words  that  thrill  and 
bum.  .  .  .  Each  is  a  poem  that  has  an  immortal  flavor.  They  are  fragments  of 
the  author's  early  dreams,  too  bright,  too  gorgeous,  too  full  of  the  blood  of  rubies 
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"  A  love  story  pure  and  simple,  one  of  the  old-fashioned,  wholesome,  sunshiny 
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and  beautiful  woman  ;  and  if  any  other  love  story  half  so  sweet  has  been  written  this 
year,  it  has  escaped  our  notice." — New  York  Times. 

"The  general  conception  of  the  story,  the  motive  of  which  is  the  growth  of  love 
between  the  young  chief  and  heroine,  is  delineated  with  a  sweetness  and  a  freshness, 
a  naturalness  and  a  certainty,  which  places  'The  Lilac  Sunbonnet'  among  the  best 
stories  of  the  time." — New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

"  In  its  own  line  this  little  love  story  can  hardly  be  excelled.  It  is  a  pastoral,  an 
idyl— the  story  of  love  and  courtship  and  marriage  of  a  fine  young  man  and  a  lovely 
girl — no  more.  But  it  is  told  in  so  thoroughly  delightful  a  manner,  with  such  playful 
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be  desired."— Boston  Traveller. 


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BY  A.  CONAN  DOYLE. 
HE  EXPLOITS  OF  BRIGADIER   GERARD. 

A  Romance  of  the  Lift  of  a  Typical  Napoleonic  Soldier.     Illus- 
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humor,  martial  gayety,  moving  incident,  make  up  a  really  delightful  book." — London 
Times. 

'  May  be  set  down  without  reservation  as  the  most  thoroughly  enjoyable  book  that 


••  May 
Dr.  Doyle 


has  ever  published." — Bosto 


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HE  STARK  MUNRO  LETTERS.  Being  a 
Series  of  Twelve  Letters  written  by  STARK  MUNRO,  M.  B., 
to  his  friend  and  former  fellow-student,  Herbert  Swanborough, 
of  Lowell,  Massachusetts,  during  the  years  1881-1884.  Illus- 
trated. I2mo.  Buckram,  $1.50. 

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don Star. 

"  Every  one  who  wants  a  hearty  laugh  must  make  acquaintance  with  Dr.  James 
Cullingworth." —  Westminster  Gazette. 

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self  to  be  unknown."— Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

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News. 

"  '  The  Stark  Munro  Letters '  is  a  bit  of  real  literature.  ...  Its  reading  will  be  an 
epoch  making  event  in  many  a  life." — Philadelphia  Evening  Telegraph. 

"  Positively  magnetic,  and  written  with  that  combined  force  and  grace  for  which  the 
author's  style  is  known." — Boston  Budget. 


SEVENTH  EDITION. 

T3OUND    THE   RED    LAMP.     Being  Facts  and 
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end.  .  .  .  No  series  of  short  stories  in  modern  literature  can  approach  tlicm."—ffart- 
ford  Times. 

"  If  Dr.  A.  Conan  Doyle  had  not  already  placed  himself  in  the  front  rank  of  living 
English  writers  by  '  The  Refugees,'  and  other  of  his  larger  stories,  he  would  surely  do 
so  by  these  fifteen  short  talcs."— New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

"  A  strikingly  realistic  and  decidedly  original  contribution  to  modern  literature."— 
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interest1  •—Philadelf  hia  Record. 

"  The  tale  never  flags  in  interest,  and  once  taken  up  will  not  be  laid  down  until  the 
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^HE  ONE   WHO  LOOKED    ON.     i2mo.     Cloth, 
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"One  of  the  most  remarkable  and  powerful  of  the  year's  contributions,  worthy  to 
stand  with  Ian  Maclaren's."— British  Weekly. 

"  One  of  the  rare  books  which  can  be  read  with  great  pleasure  and  recommended 
without  reservation.  It  is  fresh,  pure,  sweet,  and  pathetic,  with  a  pathos  which  is  per- 
fectly wholesome."— St.  Paul  Globe. 

"The  story  is  an  intensely  human  one,  and  it  is  delightfully  told.  .  .  .  The  author 
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I 


'NTO     THE     HIGHWAYS     AND     HEDGES. 
I2mo.     Paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  A  touch  of  idealism,  of  nobility  of  thought  and  purpose,  mingled  with  an  air  of 
reality  and  well-chosen  expression,  are  the  most  notable  features  of  a  book  that  has  not 
the  ordinary  defects  of  such  qualities.  With  all  its  elevation  of  utterance  and  spirit- 
uality of  outlook  and  insight  it  is  wonderfully  free  from  overstrained  or  exaggerated 
*natter,  ar.d  it  has  glimpses  of  humor.  Most  of  the  characters  are  vivid,  yet  there  are 
restraint  and  sobriety  in  their  treatment,  and  almost  all  are  carefully  and  consistently 
evolved." — London  Athenaum. 

"'Into  the  Highways  and  Hedees'  is  a  book  not  of  promise  only,  but  of  high 
achievement.  It  is  original,  powerful,  artistic,  humorous.  It  places  the  author  at  a 
bound  in  the  rank  of  those  artists  to  whom  we  look  for  the  skillful  presentation  of  strong 
personal  impressions  of  life  and  character." — London  Daily  News. 

"The  pure  idealism  of  'Into  the  Highways  and  Hedges'  does  much  to  redeem 
modern  fiction  from  the  reproach  it  has  brought  upon  itself.  .  .  .  The  story  is  original, 
and  told  with  great  refinement."— />/&//«</<•#/««  Public  Ledger. 


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D.  APPLETQN  &   CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

A  better  book  than  'The  Prisoner  of  Zenda.'  "-London  Quetn. 

HE  CHRONICLES   OF  COUNT  ANTONIO. 


By  ANTHONY  HOPE,  author  of  "  The  God  in  the  Car,"  "  The 
Prisoner  of  Zenda,"  etc.     With  photogravure  Frontispiece  by 
S.  W.  Van  Schaick.     Third  edition.     12010.     Cloth,  $1.50. 
"  No  adventures  were  ever  better  worth  recounting  than  are  those  of  Antonio  of 
Monte  Velluto,  a  very  Bayard  among  outlaws.  ...  To  all  those  whose  pulses  still  stir 
at  the  recital  of  deeds  of  high  courage,  we  may  recommend  this  book.  .  .  .  The  chron- 
icle conveys  the  emotion  of  heroic  adventure,  and  is  picturesquely  written  "—London 
Daily  News. 

"It  has  literary  merits  all  its  own,  of  a  deliberate  and  rather  deep  order.  ...  In 
point  of  execution  '  The  Chronicles  of  Count  Antonio '  is  the  best  work  that  Mr.  Hope 
has  yet  done.  The  design  is  clearer,  the  workmanship  more  elaborate,  the  style  more 
colored.  .  .  .  The  incidents  are  most  ingenious,  they  are  told  quietly,  but  with  great 
cunning,  and  the  Quixotic  sentiment  which  pervades  it  all  is  exceedingly  pleasant."— 
Westminster  Gazette. 

"  A  romance  worthy  of  all  the  expectations  raised  by  the  brilliancy  of  his  former 
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spirits  by  every  one  who  takes  it  up."—  The  Scotsman. 

"A  gallant  tale,  written  with  unfailing  freshness  and  spirit."— London  Dai'y 
Telegraph. 

"  One  of  the  most  fascinating  romances  written  in  English  within  many  days.  The 
quaint  simplicity  of  its  style  is  delightful,  and  the  adventures  recorded  in  these  '  Chron- 
icles of  Count  Antonio  '  are  as  stirring  and  ingenious  as  any  conceived  even  by  Wey- 
man  at  his  best."— New  York  World. 

"  Romance  of  the  real  flavor,  wholly  and  entirely  romance,  and  narrated  in  true  ro- 
mantic style.  The  characters,  drawn  with  such  masterly  handling,  are  not  merely  pic- 
tures and  portraits,  but  statues  that  are  alive  and  step  boldly  forward  from  the  canvas." 
—Boston  Covrier. 

"  Told  in  a  wonderfully  simple  and  direct  style,  and  with  the  magic  touch  of  a  man 
who  has  the  genius  of  narrative,  making  the  varied  incidents  flow  naturally  and  rapidly 
in  a  stream  of  sparkling  discourse." — Detroit  Tribwte. 

"Easily  ranks  with,  if  not  above,  '  A  Prisoner  of  Zenda.'  .  .  .  Wonderfully  strong,  • 
graphic,  and  compels  the  interest  of  the  most  blast  novel  reader."— Btstan  Advertiser.  ; 

"  No  adventures  were  ever  better  worth  telling  than  those  of  Count  Antonio.  .  .  . 
The  author  knows  full  well  how  to  make  every  pulse  thrill,  and  how  to  hold  his  readers 
under  the  spell  of  his  magic." — Boston  Herald. 

"  A  book  to  make  women  weep  proud  tesrs,  and  the  blood  of  men  to  tinfrle  with 
knightly  fervor.  ...  In  '  Count  Antonio  '  we  think  Mr.  Hope  surpasses  himself,  as  h« 
has  already  surpassed  all  the  other  story-tellers  of  the  period."— New  York  Spirit  ej 
the  Times.  

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NOVELS   BY   HALL   CAINE. 
'HTHE  MANXMAN.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"A  story  of  marvelous  dramatic  intensity,  and  in  it?  ethical  meaning  has  a  force 
comparable  only  to  Hawthorne's  '  Scarlet  Letter.'  " — Boston  Beacon. 

"A  work  of  power  which  is  another  stone  added  to  the  foundation  of  enduring  fame 
to  which  Mr.  Caine  is  yearly  adding." — public  Opinion. 

"A  wonderfully  strong  study  of  character;  a  powerful  analysis  of  those  elements 
which  go  to  make  up  the  strength  and  weakness  of  a  man,  which  are  at  fierce  warfare 
within  the  same  breast ;  contending  against  each  other,  as  it  were,  the  one  to  raise  him 
to  fame  and  power,  the  other  to  drag  him  down  to  degradation  and  shame.  Never  in 
the  whole  range  of  literature  have  we  seen  the  struggle  between  these  forces  for 
supremacy  over  the  man  more  powerfully,  more  realistically  delineated  than  Mr.  Caine 
pictures  it." — Boston  Home  Journal. 

HE    DEEMSTER.      A    Romance   of  the  Isle   of 
Man.     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  Hall  Caine  has  already  given  us  some  very  strong  and  fine  work,  and  '  The 
Deemster'  is  a  story  of  unusual  power.  .  .  .  Certain  passages  and  chapters  have  an 
intensely  dramatic  grasp,  and  hold  the  fascinated  reader  with  a  force  rarely  excited 
nowadays  in  literature." — The  Critic. 

"  One  of  the  strongest  novels  which  has  appeared  in  many  a  day." — San  Fran- 
cisco Chronicle. 

"  Fascinates  the  mind  like  the  gathering  and  bursting  of  a  storm." — frustrated 
London  Ne-w*. 

"  Deserves  to  be  ranked  among  the  remarkable  novels  of  the  day." — Chicago 
Times. 

HE  £  ON  DM  AN.     New  edition.     i2mo.     Cloth, 
$1.50. 

"The  welcome  given  to  this  story  has  cheered  and  touched  me,  but  I  am  con- 
scious that,  to  win  a  reception  so  warm,  such  a  book  must  have  had  readers  who 
brought  to  it  as  much  as  they  took  away.  ...  I  have  called  my  story  a  saga,  merely 
because  it  follows  the  epic  method,  and  I  must  not  claim  for  it  at  any  pcint  the  weighty 
responsibility  of  history,  or  serious  obligations  to  the  world  of  fact.  But  it  matters  not 
to  me  what  Icelanders  may  call  '  The  Eor.drr.an,'  if  they  will  honor  me  by  reading  it  in 
the  open  hearted  spirit  and  with  the  free  mind  with  which  they  are  content  to  read  of 
Grettir  and  of  his  fights  with  the  Troll."— From  the  Author's  Preface. 

/~~*APT'N    DAVY'S    HONEYMOON.      A    Manx 

*"•*      Yarn.     I2mo.     Paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"A  new  departure  by  this  author.  Unlike  his  previous  works,  this  little  tale  is 
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»lway«  that  an  author  can  succeed  equally  well  in  tragedy  and  in  comedy,  but  it  looks 
as  though  Mr.  Hall  Caine  would  be  one  of  the  exceptions." — London  Literary 
World 

"  It  is  pleasant  to  meet  the  author  of  '  The  Deemster'  in  a  brightly  humorous  little 
«tory  like  this.  ...  It  shows  the  same  observation  of  Manx  character,  and  much  of 
the  same  artistic  skill."— Philadelphia  Times. 


T 


New  York:  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


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BOOKS  BY  MRS.  ETERARD  Cons  (SARA  JEAKXETTE  DUNCAS). 

SS   HONOUR,    AND   A    LADY.      Illustrated. 

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way  of 


^£-  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB.     Illustrated. 

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SAHIB.  With  37  nhrtntions  by  F.  H.  TOWMSEOX  lano. 
Cloth,  $1.50. 

"ItisEke  trarrfbgwirixmt  lea»i»ieoe's*ftachair  tonad  it 


^  —  T"  --'-|—  r" 


New  York:  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  7*  Fifth  Ai 


T 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

NOVELS  BY  MAARTEN  MAARTENS. 
?E  GREATER  GLORY.     A  Story  of  High  Life. 
By  MAARTEN  MAARTENS,   author  of  "  God's  Fool,"   "  Joost 
Avelingh,"  etc.     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  Until  the  Appletons  discovered  the  merits  of  Maarten  Maartens,  the  foremost  of 
Dutch  novelists,  it  is  doubtful  if  many  American  readers  knew  that  there  were  DuUih  ' 
novelists.  His  '  God's  Fool '  and  '  Joost  Avelingh '  made  for  him  an  American  reputa- 
tion. To  our  mind  this  just  published  work  of  his  is  his  best.  .  .  .  He  is  a  master  ot 
epigram,  an  artist  in  description,  a  prophet  in  insight." — Boston  Advertiser. 

"  It  would  take  several  columns  to  give  any  adequate  idea  of  the  superb  way  in 
which  the  Dutch  novelist  has  developed  his  theme  and  wrought  out  one  of  the  most 
impressive  stories  of  the  period.  ...  It  belongs  to  the  small  class  of  novels  which 
one  can  not  afford  to  neglect." — San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

"  Maarten  Maartens  stands  head  and  shoulders  above  the  average  novelist  of  the 
day  in  intellectual  subtlety  and  imaginative  power." — Boston  Beacon. 

f~*OD'S  FOOL.     By  MAARTEN    MAARTENS.      i2mo. 
{J    Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  Throughout  there  is  an  epigrammatic  force  which  would  make  palatable  a  less 
interesting  story  of  human  lives  or  one  less  deftly  told." — London  Saturday  Review. 

"  Perfectly  easy,  graceful,  humorous.  .  .  .  The  author's  skill  in  character-drawing 
is  undeniable." — London  Chronicle. 

"A  remarkable  work."— New  York  Times. 

"Maarten  Maartens  has  secured  a  firm  footing  in  the  eddies  of  current  literature. 
.  .  .  Pathos  deepens  into  tragedy  in  the  thrilling  story  of  God's  Fool."' — fJUltuM 
phia  Ledger. 

"  Its  preface  alone  stamps  the  author  as  one  of  the  leading  English  novelists  of 
to-day." — Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

"  The  story  is  wonderfully  brilliant  .  .  .  The  interest  never  lags ;  the  style  is 
realistic  and  intense;  and  there  is  a  constantly  underlying  current  of  subtle  humor. 
...  It  is,  in  short,  a  book  which  no  student  of  modern  literature  should  fail  to  read." 
—Boston  Times. 

"A  story  of  remarkable  interest  and  point."— New  York  Observer. 

VOST  AVELINGH.      By  MAARTEN    MAARTENS. 

I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"So  unmistakably  good  as  to  induce  the  hope  that  an  acquaintance  with  the  Dutch 
literature  of  fiction  may  soon  become  more  general  among  us." — London  Morning 

"  In  scarcely  any  of  the  sensational  novels  of  the  day  will  the  reader  find  more 
nature  or  more  human  nature."—  London  Standard. 

"A  novel  of  a  very  high  type.  At  once  strongly  realistic  and  powerfully  ideal-,' 
.stic."— London  Literary  World. 

"  Full  of  local  color  and  rich  in  quaint  phraseology  and  suggestion." — London 
Telegraph. 

"  Maarten  Maartens  is  a  capital  story-teller."— Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

"Our  English  writers  of  fiction  will  have  to  look  to  their  laurels." — Birmingham 
Daily  Post.  

New  York:  D.  APPLETON  &  CO..  72  Fifth  Avenuu 


A 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

JOURNEY  IN  OTHER  WORLDS.  A  Ro* 
mance  of  the  Future.  By  JOHN  JACOB  ASTOR.  With  9  full, 
page  Illustrations  by  Dan  Beard.  i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  An  interesting  and  cleverly  devised  book.  .  .  .  No  lack  of  imagination.  .  . , 
Shows  a  skillful  and  wide  acquaintance  with  scientific  facts." — New  York  Herald. 

"  The  author  speculates  cleverly  and  daringly  on  the  scientific  advance  of  the  earth, 
and  he  revels  in  the  physical  luxuriance  of  Jupiter;  but  he  also  lets  his  imagination 
travel  through  spiritual  realms,  and  evidently  delights  in  mystic  speculation  quite  as 
much  as  in  scientific  investigation.  If  he  is  a  follower  of  Jules  Verne,  he  has  not  forgot- 
ten also  to  study  the  philosophers." — New  York  Tribune. 

"  A  beautiful  example  of  typographical  art  and  the  bookmaker's  skill.  ...  To 
appreciate  the  story  one  must  read  it." — New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 

"  The  date  of  the  events  narrated  in  this  book  is  supposed  to  be  2000  A.  D.  The 
inhabitants  of  North  America  have  increased  mightily  in  numbers  and  power  and 
knowledge.  It  is  an  age  of  marvelous  scientific  attainments.  Flying  machines  have 
long  been  in  common  use,  and  finally  a  new  power  is  discovered  called  '  apergy,' 
the  reverse  of  gravitation,  by  which  people  are  able  to  fly  off  into  space  in  any  direc- 
tion, and  at  what  speed  they  please." — New  York  Sun. 

"  The  scientific  romance  by  John  Jacob  Astor  is  more  than  likely  to  secure  a  dis- 
tinct popular  success,  and  achieve  widespread  vogue  both  as  an  amusing  and  interest- 
esting  story,  and  a  thoughtful  endeavor  to  prophesy  some  of  the  triumphs  which  science 
is  destined  to  win  by  the  year  2000.  The  book  has  been  written  with  a  purpose,  and 
that  a  higher  one  than  the  mere  spinning  of  a  highly  imaginative  yam.  Mr.  Astor  has 
been  engaged  upon  the  book  for  over  two  years,  and  has  brought  to  bear  upon  it  a 
great  deal  of  hard  work  in  the  way  of  scientific  research,  of  which  he  has  been  very  fond 
ever  since  he  entered  Harvard.  It  is  admirably  illustrated  by  Dan  Beard."— Mail  and 
Express. 

"  Mr.  Astor  has  himself  almost  all  the  qualities  imaginable  for  making  the  science  of 
astronomy  popular.  He  knows  the  learned  maps  of  the  astrologers.  He  knows  the 
work  of  Copernicus.  He  has  made  calculations  and  observations.  He  is  enthusiastic, 
and  the  spectacular  does  not  frighten  him." — New  York  Times. 

"  The  work  will  remind  the  reader  very  much  of  Jules  Verne  in  its  general  plan  o< 
using  scientific  facts  and  speculation  as  a  skeleton  on  which  to  hang  the  romantic 
adventures  of  the  central  figures,  who  have  all  the  daring  ingenuity  and  luck  of  Mr. 
Verne's  heroes.  Mr.  Astor  uses  history  to  point  out  what  in  his  opinion  science  may 
be  expected  to  accomplish.  It  is  a  romance  with  a  purpose." — Chicago  Jnter-Oceatt. 

"  The  romance  contains  many  new  and  striking  developments  of  the  possibilities 
of  science  hereafter  to  be  explored,  but  the  volume  is  intensely  interesting,  both  as  a 
product  of  imagination  and  an  illustration  of  the  ingenious  and  original  application  of 
science." — Rochester  Herald. 


New  York :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

THE   STORY  OF  THE  WEST  SERIES. 

EDITED  BY  RIPLEY  HITCHCOCK. 

"There  is  a  vast  extent  of  territory  lying  between  the  Missouri  River  and  the  Pacific 
Coast  which  has  barely  been  skimmed  over  so  far.  That  the  conditions  of  life  therein 
are  undergoing  changes  little  short  of  marvelous  will  be  understood  when  one  recalls 
the  fact  that  the  first  white  male  child  born  in  Kansas  is  still  living  there;  and  Kansas 
is  by  no  means  one  of  the  newer  States.  Revolutionary  indeed  has  been  the  upturning 
of  the  old  condition  of  affairs,  and  little  remains  thereof,  and  less  will  remain  as  each, 
year  goes  by,  until  presently  there  will  be  only  tradition  of  the  Sioux  and  Comanches, 
the  cowboy  life,  the  wild  horse,  and  the  antelope.  Histories,  many  of  them,  have  been 
written  about  the  Western  country  alluded  to,  but  most  if  not  practically  all  by  outsiders 
who  knew  not  personally  that  life  of  kaleidoscopic  allurement.  But  ere  it  shall  have 
vanished  forever  we  are  likely  to  have  truthful,  complete,  and  charming  portrayals  of 
it  produced  by  men  who  actually  know  the  life  and  have  the  power  to  describe  it" — 
Henry  Edward  Rood,  in  The  Mail  and  Express. 

NOW  READY. 

'ITHE  STORY  OF  THE  INDIAN.     By  GEORGE 

•*•        BIRD  GRINNELL,  author  of  "  Pawnee  Hero  Stories,"  "  Blackfoot 

Lodge  Tales,"  etc.     I2mo.     Cloth.     Illustrated.    $1.50. 

"  A  valuable  study  of  Indian  life  and  character.  ...  An  attractive  book,  ...  in 
large  part  one  in  which  Indians  themselves  might  have  written."— New  York  Tribune. 

"Among  the  various  books  respecting  the  aborigines  of  America,  Mr.  Grinnell's 

easily  takes  a  leading  position.     He  takes  the  reader  directly  to  the  camp-fire  and  the 

council,  and  shows  us  the  American   Indian  as  he  really  is.  ...  A  book  which  wiil 

convey  much  interesting  knowledge  respecting  a  race  which  is  now  fast  passing  away." 

,  —Boston  Commercial  Bulletin. 

"  It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  volume  is  one  only  for  scholars  and  libraries  of 
reference.  It  is  far  more  than  that.  While  it  is  a  true  story,  yet  it  is  a  story  none  the 
less  abounding  in  picturesque  description  and  charming  anecdote.  We  regard  it  as  a 
valuable  contribution  to  American  literature. " — N.  Y.  Mail  and  Express.  "'"  1 

"  A  most  attractive  book,  which  presents  an  admirable  graphic  picture  of  the  actual 
Indian,  whose  home  life,  religious  observances,  amusements,  together  with  the  various 
phases  of  his  devotion  to  war  and  the  chase,  and  finally  the  effects  of  encroaching  civ- 
ilization, are  delineated  with  a  certainty  and  an  absence  of  sentimentalism  or  hostile 
prejudice  that  impart  a  peculiar  distinction  to  this  eloquent  story  of  a  passing  life." — 
Buffalo  Commercial. 

"  No  man  is  better  qualified  than  Mr.  Grinnell  to  introduce  this  series  with  the  story 
of  the  original  owner  of  the  West,  the  North  American  Indian.  Long  acquaintance 
and  association  with  the  Indians,  and  membership  in  a  tribe,  combined  with  a  high 
degree  of  literary  ability  and  thorough  education,  has  fitted  the  author  to  understand 
the  red  man  and  to  present  him  fairly  to  others." — New  York  Observer. 

IN  PREPARATION. 

The  Story  of  the  Mine.    By  CHARLES  HOWARD  SHINN. 
The  Story  of  the  Trapper.    By  GILBERT  PARKER. 
The  Story  of  the  Explorer. 
The  Story  of  the  Cowboy. 
The  Story  of  the  Soldier. 
The  Story  of  the  Railroad. 


New  York  :  D.  APPLETO 


University  of  California  Library 
Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


if     RECEIVED  AUG 


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